Code Blue
by Aravell
Summary: AU: What started out as a fairly simple exam on her neighbor's friend threw a second-year med student into a chaotic situation that went way over her head. As if things weren't bad enough, she discovered the real identity of said friend; an aggressive, quick-tempered young man with a scarred face and his connection to one of the most dangerous criminal syndicates... the Mafia.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Death Note or any of the characters except for the OCs.

* * *

" **Code Blue"**

" _What started out as a fairly simple exam on her neighbor's friend threw a second-year med student into a chaotic situation that went way over her head.  
As if things weren't bad enough, she discovered the real identity of said friend; an aggressive, quick-tempered young man with a scarred face and  
his connection to one of the most dangerous criminal syndicates... the Mafia."_

* * *

 **PROLOGUE**

 **LA, November 11, 2011, 00:36AM.**

 _Drap, drap, drap, drap, drap_

The sound of the fast footsteps filled the dark, long alley, as the cold walls on each side echoed it back, sending shivers to anyone possibly listening.

It was no exception for him.

Listening to the haunting echoing sound alongside the alley, generated from his own breathless run, was only making his anxiety grew bigger than ever. His limbs were going numb, cold sweat pouring down all over his nimble body, the pain in his chest increased, and his heart hammering even faster. He was almost suffocating from short of breath, but he couldn't stop now.

No, if he still wanted to get out of this place alive... or at least he _hoped_ he _could_.

 _Drap, drap, drap, drap, drap_

When he finally reached his destination, a closed room at the end of the alley, he pushed the metal doors open and entered the room, quickly slammed the doors behind him and locked them. Leaning against the cold metal, he struggled to rearrange his frantic breath. Once he settled, his once piercing blue eyes were now rolling wildly in their sockets as they swept the inside of the room.

The room was full of monitors; each displaying the scenes recorded by security cameras planted around various spots of the building. Below the monitors were metal desks with enormous amount of small buttons, glaring green and red lights.

But what he was looking for was neither the monitors nor one of the buttons. Instead, he fixed his gaze at this small complicated looking thing, resting quietly on one of the desks.

He knew exactly what the thing was. It was a detonator, one he had prepared himself months ago in case something like this happens, unbeknown to other members of the family.

The Mafia family.

Swiping the gigantic beads of sweat over his forehead hence the tousled wet strands of golden hair, he stepped slowly approaching the detonator, not making any noise.

He stood just before the desk and picked the detonator with a trembled hand, staring at the cylindrical thing as well as the red button popping up on its side.

 _It can't be helped..._

He was hesitating, but an erupted feral sound behind his back turned his attention away of the detonator. The metal doors were forcedly opened, soon followed by a number of men storming in. They held various weapons, each got one, and they were being aimed to the same target: no other than himself.

His free hand quickly snatched the gun on the hem of his pants and aimed the gunpoint to the intruders. His eyes were wide opened in vigilance.

Rapid alternating conversations filled the cold room, each side throwing endless arguments, defending each own stance. Neither intended to surrender. Later, one of the armed men who stood at the front stepped forward. With a wide, merciless grin over his ruthless features, he spoke in deep, rough voice.

"You can still change your mind, Keehl, or we'll send you to hell, right here, right now."

For a few minutes that felt like ages, the called one didn't show any reaction, just keeping his mouth shut and sending a cold stare into the eyes of his counterpart. Finally he lowered his gun, earning a satisfied grin over his counterpart's face, but only to disappear the second later.

Because an equally wicked smirk gradually grew on the blond's thin lips as he replied haughtily in low voice,

"Then see you soon in hell."

 _God, forgive me._

As soon as those words escaped his lips, he forced his right thumb onto the red button. He barely acknowledged what happened after that. All he could remember were shouts, gunshots, the sound of explosions, and the hot sensation of being burned in fire...


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Death Note or any of the characters except for the OCs.

* * *

 **CHAPTER 1**

 **New York, November 18, 2011.**

 **Valerie**

It was evening already. I pulled my scarf tighter around my neck, feeling the thick, soft texture of the woolly fabric provided even more pleasing warmth when I stepped out of campus building. I was soon welcomed by the cold weather I attempted to ignore, as I shoved my hands deeper down the pockets of my coat whilst passing the area in front of the building. November had been unfriendly these days, but then again, the same thing had been happening these past few years. Courtesy of global warming, I supposed, if it wasn't about the infamous doomsday on what people and media kept saying would happen at the end of the next year.

I wasn't the type of person who would easily buy the bullshit of course. Anyway, it did me a favor on keeping me aware that time was precious.

Every single second counted. Time was money. Time was not something you could easily waste.

 _Time is a matter between life and death._

Well, the last statement was probably more appropriate when it was directed to me... or people like me: medical students, interns, residents, physicians, surgeons, and other people inside the circle.

So yeah, time, for us, was a matter between life and death. The pressures and the anxiety colored our days. You'd got to keep your mind awake all the time, to observe and analyze, to get into an action, all done in extremely careful calculation; any single or simple mistake wasn't excused. You did wrong, you lost your license, and most likely ended up behind the bars. We had been told about them since the beginning and we had kept them well in our minds.

Still, being aware of the obligations as well as the consequences didn't mean it didn't leave any impact.

It did, for most people especially students. Moreover, students who after spending eighteen months sitting behind the table, attending lectures and seminars, and drowning in piles of textbooks almost every single night, would _finally_ go outside and facing their first clinical rotation.

Like the ones I would have in mere two months. And I'm telling you, this would be the most challenging task ever in my life.

I had had my internship in the hospital before, for one full year after graduating from college, in order to gain further clinical experience before I attended med school. And it was useful. In fact, I was really grateful for that, especially in the very moment. Of course, Foundations of Clinical Medicine classes had done enough in preparing the students before the major clinical year, but I also got the real experience in my hands, resulting a plus point on my own.

I wouldn't be pretending here; I was nervous. Really nervous, honestly speaking. But ditching the agitation, I found myself getting excited at the same time. I was getting closer to the real job, to be finally able doing what doctors do, to be able to do what I'd always _dreamed_ for.

Ok, I knew I still have long, long way to go, but hey, being optimistic didn't hurt, did it?

Looking back, I had been away from home for years, going back twice or maybe even only once a year. I moved all the way from my hometown in Paris, leaving my family, to another continent where I pursued my undergraduate study. And now, having a B.A. tailing my last name, I was making my way for an M.D. in Columbia University College of Physicians and Surgeons. I got in with full scholarship, something I was very proud of, and something my parents were proud of. Which reminded me, things weren't going well between them recently...

The last time my mom called, she and dad were having a fight. Dad didn't even come home that day. That wasn't news; dad had this habit of leaving home every time they had a fight, only going back when he was rather calmed down. I'd seen it with my own eyes until the day I left to US.

But this time was different, something told me it was getting serious. And it was just over a simple problem...

Ok, _stop_. I had no time for worrying over things like that, and I wouldn't.

My parents were grown-ups anyway; they should be wise enough to find the best solution. The one and only thing I was obliged to do now was preparing for my clinical year.

Half an hour later, I arrived at the apartment building I currently resided in. I entered the lobby and pressed the elevator call button, luckily I didn't have to wait since it opened right away. I stepped inside the metal cubicle and pressed the button of my floor. When I reached the place a sigh of relief immediately escaped me. Thankfully the heater was working; it was much warmer here than in the lobby or outside. I made my way through the hallway to reach my flat, when I noticed someone was blocking the way.

Ah. No, sorry, it wasn't someone. There were two of them, both were men seemingly, standing in the middle of the hallway. Anyway, my flat was on the other side so I had to pass those guys to get into.

"Excuse me," I said as my legs brought me approaching the two men. Now that I was closer, I noticed one of them was my neighbor. I didn't know his name nor did I ever talked to him since I wasn't much of an outgoing person; I only knew that he moved here just about a couple of days ago. But this guy was easy to distinguish due to his uncommon appearance.

Despite his weird choose of attire (striped shirt under fur-trimmed vest complete with elbow length gauntlets, anyone?), the most notable trait was his striking red hair. Red as in _red_.

Another notable thing was a pair of goggles perching on top of his nose bridge, hiding the entirety of his eyes, which always made me mentally raised an eyebrow, I mean, hello, wearing goggles indoors?

Those two guys seemed alarmed by my presence. "Oh, sorry," the redhead mumbled as he stepped aside, providing a little more space.

The other one, whose head and majority of face covered by the fur-trimmed hood of his leather jacket (he was clad all in leather as far as I could see. Who were these guys actually, local rockers?) also slightly shifted, pulling his hood downward, blocking me from the sight of his face.

All I could see was strands of blonde hair hanging beneath the hood, framing the visible sight of his lower face and neck...

Speaking of which, something on the left part of the neck caught my eyes. _Burn scar...?_

I didn't get time to have a good look at it though since I continued walking, leaving them behind, not bothering to look back.

Soon as I entered my flat, I quickly yanked my boots off, tossed my coat and scarf over the couch, and not even considering changing clothes or taking a shower, I plopped myself onto the bed. I laid there for a long time, arms and legs sprawled, enjoying the comfy mattress and the soft texture of the covers that came in contact with my skin. Soon, the drowsiness from exhaustion quickly dragged me into a deep slumber...

* * *

 **Mello**

"Hurry up, Matt," I growled impatiently toward the goggled redhead before my eyes.

The one I had called looked up to meet my eyes, and I could see below the tinted glasses he was scowling at me.

"Patience, Mello, would ya?" Matt grunted as he looked away, continuing what he was doing before: rummaging the contents of his jeans and vest pockets. "I swear I remember bringing the keycard with me! Now if I remember correctly—"

"Forget the keycard. I got a better idea." I made a gesture to reach the gun on the waistband of my leather pants, safely hidden beneath the jacket I was wearing when Matt stopped me abruptly.

"Don't you dare use _that thing_ to my door," he emphasized firmly, "or I would be kicked out of an apartment for the umpteenth time this year."

"Then hurry up. The pain's fucking itching!" I cringed, feeling the familiar sensation of pain started creeping through my left part of face that was well hidden beneath my hood. It had only been a week since the day I escaped from the Mafia base, out of those explosions and burning fire, far from the very place that had raised me for years.

It was luck. _Total luck_.

I was lucky to be alive. I was lucky to escape _only_ with ugly, large burn scars across the left part of my face, neck, and upper body. As the result, Matt had to nurse me day after day and I had to make a call to one of my loyal underling in the Mafia, Jack, to get the painkillers.

The guy named Jack Neylon was in charge of drugs, as he was also our scientist in the Mafia. He had connections in every big city in the US, which made everything easier. Therefore I ordered him to send me painkillers, secretly, to Matt's apartment. Still, I didn't feel much difference concerning the pain even though I had been taking the drug every day, except if you counted the high feeling and dizziness.

You're asking why did I still have to depend on a Mafia member for an illegit treatment instead of looking for a legit treatment?

I would have to remind you of these particular things: I, Mihael Keehl, known by my alias Mello, was an ex-Mafioso, with no clear background, having intimidating appearance (as what many people addressed me, quite flattering though), and these burns didn't make any better.

I was more than certain that before I could even take a single step into a clinic, people would stop me at first instance and drag me to the nearest cops. My Beretta 92, which I never left without, would serve as the best evidence to have me arrested. As for living behind the bars? Not the life I dreamed for, thanks.

I looked down, staring blankly at the laces of my leather combat boots. My thought wandered back to the day I first got the hideous scars.

Never had I ever imagined that someday, I got to use the detonator I had prepared secretly only for emergency situation, for real. Being raised in a powerful crime syndicate and surrounded by sly people all the time, 24/7, making me having a hard time to trust anyone, even inside the family. The only person I put my trust into was only the Don himself.

The one I had looked up to as my own father.

Even though he was my _adoptive father..._

"Excuse me."

A voice disrupted the train of my thoughts, sending me back to earth. I turned my head slightly and saw a woman... no, a young woman—a girl, standing near where Matt and I were. She had pale complexion with long deep brown hair. Within a second I examined her from the corner of my eyes; she was clad in parka coat, a scarf wrapping her neck, and jeans tucked into her mid-calf lace-up boots. A messenger bag was hanging on her right shoulder. She must had been outdoors. The girl watched us in silence, her eyes shifted from Matt to me as if waiting for us to do something.

I looked back at our position and realized that we were blocking her way on the narrow hallway (why didn't they build a wider one anyway? It's an apartment for _human_ , not fucking _rats_ ), and it seemed that Matt was aware as well.

"Oh, sorry." I heard Matt replied as he shifted and made a way for her to get by.

I also stepped aside, pulling my hood even deeper on the process. I didn't want to take any chance that anybody recognized me, even if that least likely happened in this kind of place. And I absolutely didn't want to get into trouble by making the girl reacted in horror if she saw my damaged face.

She brushed past me and walked away from us, not uttering any more words, much to my relief.

Not until ten seconds later, a tiny cheer told me Matt had found his condemned keycard. Once inserted, we entered his sanctuary for these last few months; a messy flat with dozens of cables snaking to every direction over the dusty dull carpet covering the floor, connected to additional power sources and laptops with blinding monitors, not to mention cameras near the windows that were pointed outside.

Did I mention Matt was a hacker? A brilliant one; which was the obvious reason why he would be a great help in observing the activities of the Mafia members, secretly, during my hiding period.

I'd never thought I would be meeting Matt again, my one and only old friend, after all these years, in LA of most places. He was the one who suggested I moved temporarily to New York, out of reach from the Mafia's hands, for my safety. I didn't know whether it was purely a coincidence or God gave me a second opportunity in life...

The increasing pain made me hissed. "Dammit..." I was starting to breathe in short, quick pants. As Matt flopped down on his couch and started playing his video game console I stumbled across the room to the kitchen counter, grabbing a small bottle containing white pills. I took one and swallowed it right away, not even bothering to prepare a glass of water because the itch was getting disturbing.

In only a few minutes my head started became heavy, followed by an assault of drowsiness. It seemed the pill began to take effects.

"Better?" I turned my head to Matt's direction, his head poking out of the couch.

"I suppose," I grumbled hoarsely, as I began to remove my hood and take off my jacket, throwing it on the nearest table. "I'm off to bed. And mute the goddamn thing."

The redhead snickered. "As you wish, Boss," he replied tauntingly as he sank deeper on his couch, turning his attention back to whatever shit he was playing, only this time with sounds off. I rolled my eyes and dumped my back on the bed, still in my boots and leather attire. I stirred slightly and draped my arm against my face, protecting my eyes from the dim lights on the ceilings.

No longer later my heavy head completely consumed myself. I was above the clouds. I felt light. High. Numb and tipsy.

I couldn't even differentiate either I was in a conscious or unconscious state... I was completely drowned inside the comfortable, peaceful, soundless night...

And woke up within an endless ring, screaming violently inside my head.


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Death Note or any of the characters except for the OCs.

* * *

 **CHAPTER 2**

 **Valerie**

When I woke up the next day, the clock at the opposite side of the wall was already showing 09:30. I yawned, forcing my sleepy half-lidded eyes open and slid down from the bed, my bare foot sunk into the fluffy carpet beneath. It wasn't my habit to get up late, even on weekends, but I figured it wasn't much surprising considering how many hours I had been sleep-deprived these recent weeks, preparing for the clinical rotation.

It took me a while to regain full consciousness, before lazily dragged my legs across the room to hit the shower. I didn't forget to brush my teeth, especially because last night I didn't do the routine due to over-exhaustion hence the unpleasant taste inside my mouth cavity. After getting rid of the sleepy face, I made myself a bread and jam with a cup of hot tea while turning on the TV to watch some morning news.

Well, there was nothing interesting except for crime news such as murder, robbery, missing person and so on as I surfed through the channels so I gave up. I turned off the TV and decided it was better for myself to go outside, since it was still quite early and the weather might be not as freezing as yesterday. I wasn't in the mood of re-reading the differential diagnosis books that were scattering on my desk.

Someone had told me this good advice: _when you're not in the mood, don't do anything you're not in the mood_. I found that worked just flawlessly since I had always screwed things up whenever I wasn't in the mood of doing so.

So yeah, textbooks could wait. _Sorry, VINDICATE(1), will catch up with you guys later..._

I changed my clothes, put on my coat, scarf, and boots, grabbed my cell phone and wallet and put them into my bag before I walked out of my room.

* * *

 **Mello**

Matt sat quietly on the chair as I leaned against the backseat of the couch next to him. I slumped lazily, extending my legs, my heels perching on the edge of the wooden surfaced table. My eyes were closed while my leather-covered fingers running on my temples, massaging them in certain spots. An unwrapped chocolate bar clutched to my other hand was on its way to my mouth, and I snapped off a small chunk before munching in silence, slowly. Whenever I put more effort the pain would emerge back.

 _Fuck_. The hammering pain was yet to disappear from my head, even when I had taken another pill. It wasn't only the sore headache that felt like a shitty hangover that troubled me. Nausea completely screwed up my body and I had to spill the contents of my stomach a few hours ago at the bathroom.

It wasn't the first time I vomited and feeling nauseous since I took the painkillers; after all Jack said those were common side effects of the drug and I would be better in no time.

 _Hmph_. In no time my ass. In reality it only got much worse, and mind you I was one of those people who had great metabolism. Yet I still felt like shit.

"I think you should call Jack." I opened my eyes to peer at Matt, who was looking at me in serious face. He spoke again with unmistakable concern that could be heard clearly from his voice, "You're not ok, and I know that."

"I'm ok, Matt. Five minutes is all I need," I mumbled with my usual nonchalant attitude, but I guess Matt caught the faintest hint of uncertainty on my tone.

"You're NOT ok, Mello. I'm not blind," he countered, sighing heavily. He reached up to my cell phone on the table and handed it to me. "Come on, at least you should ask Jack to make sure there's nothing wrong with you."

I looked at the cell phone half-heartedly before rolling my eyes back to Matt, not giving any reactions. But eventually my lack of response made the redhead clicked his tongue in annoyance and snatched the chocolate bar from my hand, shoving the cell phone instead between my fingers.

"Just fucking give a call or I toss this to the dumpster." He threatened while waving the chocolate bar, only making me snorted and smirked at his poor attempt.

"As if I don't have any more left. Fine."

I began to look up for Jack's numbers before suddenly it started vibrating. The screen displayed an income call.

And it was from the very person.

"It's Jack," I stated, lifting one eyebrow. What a rare occasion. Jack never called during work hours; he even called me only once during my hiding period. Most of the time we only exchanged texts.

"Coincidence? Well, take it."

I hit the answer button and lifted the cell phone to my ear. "Yeah?"

* * *

 **Valerie**

I stepped down from inside the bus, carrying bags of groceries on one elbow, one hand holding an opened book, walking down the street loaded by pedestrians brushing past me from every direction. I had settled on going grocery buying during my short time outside of the apartment, as well as giving myself a little service by buying new books from the bookstore. I was very much a bookworm; you could see that from books tidily placed in lines inside two bookcases in my flat. Well, not really as tidy as it sounded like; there were more of them mounting on my desk or on certain places in the room, but you got the point.

Books, be it anything: fiction or non-fiction, but I personally liked the heavy-themed ones; were my main interest. Most of the time I could walk while reading without accidentally bumping into something or someone (apparently my Mom hated this quirk of mine, since whenever I was "in the zone" it would take an earthquake plus an airplane crash to bring my attention back to the universe, she said). Precisely like what I was doing now, reading _11/22/63_ by Stephen King, my long-time-favorite author. Horror and dark suspense all the way!

Before I knew it, I had arrived in front of the apartment building. Saving the book for afternoon reading, I put it into my bag when someone who was standing just outside the front doors caught my eyes.

 _Isn't that the lanky neighbor?_

I couldn't be wrong; the flashy red hair, the goggles, and the striped shirt told me I was no wrong. I had never seen him outside of the building since I presumed he didn't like going outdoors that much.

I stared at his figure and immediately noticed that he seemed like waiting for someone. He swept his gaze around, constantly checking his cell phone, probably expecting any calls or messages—I wasn't sure. I guess he didn't get any since he put it back to his pocket, instead pulling a cigarette box from inside his vest, took one cigarette, lit it up and started smoking.

 _Huh._ I had never respected smokers. Four bucks only to have your respiratory, circulatory, immune, and musculoskeletal systems contaminated by nicotin, tar, carbon monoxide and hydrogen cyanide? Absolutely wasn't my choice of life.

After contemplating for a while, I decided to say hello. A little hospitality can't hurt, right? Especially to your own neighbor. I thought someone should start the conversation somehow, just to be polite.

Approaching the goggled guy in steady steps, I stopped before him. "Hi," I called with a small smile. He turned his head and looked at me, seemingly confused at the moment. From what I saw, he's around my age, less or more perhaps.

Not really sure what to say, I continued, "You're the guy from the next room, right? We briefly met yesterday at the hallway. My name's Valerie and I live near to your room. Thought I just want to say hello." I extended my hand.

I supposed he was trying to scrutinize my face before finally smiling, took his cigarette off his lips and shook my hand.

"Hey, Valerie. The name's Matt," he introduced himself. Smoke and tobacco-contained breath sneaking their ways into my nostrils and I had to resist not using my hand to shove the stink away in front of his face. "Sorry if I didn't recognize you beforehand, I never pay good attention to my surrounding. Oh, and sorry for yesterday."

"That's ok. So, uh... what are you doing here? Waiting for someone?" I asked, trying to start a topic.

Matt shrugged indifferently. "Been waiting for ages for nothing though."

"Oh. Is it your... friend from the yesterday?" I didn't know if I mentioned the right word (maybe they were _more?_ ), but anyway, I chose to play safe.

"No..." he gave a sigh. For a second he looked frustrated, placing the cigarette back between his lips and inhaled the condemned thing. "I'm waiting for a doctor acquaintance of mine. My friend is upstairs."

"Oh…" I nodded in understanding. "You're not feeling well?"

"Nah, it's not me." He paused for a moment, brows furrowed. "It's my friend."

"What happened to him, if I may ask?" I tried to sound concerned.

Matt seemed hesitated. Below the tinted glasses I could see him looking right into my eyes, as if gauging if I could be trusted. After a while he finally gave his response, practically whispering. "He's been taking painkillers recently, and I guess the effect completely screws him."

 _So we have a painkiller addict here huh?_ "Nausea and vomiting, I suppose?"

"Yeah... and shallow breath. He also got severe headache just this morning."

"Tylenol, Vicodin, or...?"

"Vicodin."

Hmm. Vicodin indeed may led to the mentioned symptoms, including headache, but _severe?_ "How long has it been?" I asked.

"Uh... the using or the nausea...?"

"Both."

He thought it for a while. "About one week. As for the sickness... it's getting worse past these three or two days."

"How many pills a day?"

"I'm not sure... he was told to take one every three to four hours though. But I guess he often took more."

He was told to? Hmm, maybe this wasn't a case of an addict after all...

I nodded in understanding while my brain processing the given information, not aware of Matt looking at me bemusedly.

"I don't want to sound rude or anything..." he began, making me turn around to meet his goggles. His head slightly tilted to his right side as he continued, "... But what's with those questions anyway? I mean, thank you for your concern, I appreciate it very much, but you sound more like... you know, interrogating?"

I blinked at his statement. _Interrogating?_ Maybe I would have to re-rehearse how I was supposed to _interview_ a patient.

I just laughed and shook my head. "Sorry, I didn't mean to sound like that. I guess it's kinda an impulse I always do whenever I listen to complaints of symptoms."

Matt gave a questioning look as a response. "I'm a med student," I explained.

"Really?" His eyebrows lifted as he removed his cigarette. _Gah, the smoke_. "Wow, that explains. Year?"

"Two," I replied.

Matt seemed intrigued. "So you've been handling a patient before?"

"I have classes for that, but the real thing is coming next year," I said. "I'm having my clinical rotation in January."

"Oh. That must be awesome."

"I hope so..."

He finally put his cigarette away, dropped it to the ground and stomped his feet on it, before fixing his attention back to me. "Hey Val, do you think you can do me a favor?" he inquired, a hint of pleading in his voice.

I arched an eyebrow, not only because his sudden request but also his way of shortening my name, but I chose to ignore it this time. "About what?"

The next response was quite expected.

"Can you take a look at my friend?"

* * *

 **Mello**

I was lounging on the couch, working on my eleventh chocolate bar in a row while surfing television channels, not really watching though. I was physically feeling better now since the headache gradually ceased and the nausea wasn't so bad as before, but mentally not, as I was too busy seething under my skin.

For God's sake, what took Matt so long? It's been one and a half fucking hour and still he didn't come back. Did he lose Jack? Or maybe Jack didn't come? My last text to my companion was replied by _'Shut up and stay there like a good kid'_. What the fuck, Matt?

Something wasn't right. I was more than aware of that. Not only that I was surprised Jack told me he was in New York, but also the way he spluttered on the phone then. It was odd. He practically whispered on the other line, as if he phoned me secretly and was afraid of getting caught. Jack said he wanted to meet me in person, so I gave him Matt's apartment address and told him to get here. He said he would come in less than an hour.

Yet now it was almost one hour and forty-eight minutes since Matt left downstairs. I was left here, dwelling on the tattered couch alone, staring blankly at the television show like a complete idiot.

Damn. No one dared to make me wait, _no one_. I swore, another minute and nothing new, I would get into my bike and leave to Jack at once to demand an explanation from his own mouth. I could ask Matt to track down his location.

But before I could set up another plan in mind, the sound of the door opened accompanied with footsteps made me turned my head, and I pulled myself to my feet.

* * *

 _1\. VINDICATE : a mnemonic used by medical students to learn differential medical diagnosis: **V** ascular, **I** nflammatory, **N** eoplastic, **D** egenerative/ **D** eficiency, **I** diopathic/ **I** ntoxication, **C** ongenital, **A** utoimmune/ **A** llergic, **T** raumatic, **E** ndocrine._


	4. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Death Note or any of the characters except for the OCs.

* * *

 **CHAPTER 3**

 **Valerie**

The moment I stepped into Matt's flat literally made me jaw-dropped. The room was dim, and one might think that there had been an assault in this room by looking at the really messy condition. Cables everywhere, laptop monitors flashing before my eyes, and I spotted several cameras near the windows, peeping through the blinds. Not to mention litter scattering on every corner of the room.

Maybe my neighbor wasn't only a local rocker but also a spy in disguise? Well, only God knows, but that wasn't the main problem here.

The main problem was, I had often heard about many stories and or testimonies about patients feeling being intimidated by the doctor's presence, but had _never_ heard even once about the contrary.

Which was unfortunately, exactly what happened to me right now, right on the spot where I stood.

I had accepted Matt's out of the blue request (practically because he kept saying like " _Come on Val, help a neighbor out!"_ ) with a particular reminder that I was only helping and it didn't mean that I could make a precise diagnose about the illness, but yes, I said yes anyway. I had taken my medical bag before I came with Matt into his room. And now, I regretted right away why I didn't make Matt tell me first-hand what my "patient" would be like.

The first thing crossing my mind was: _Scary_.

I wasn't speaking about the large burn scar damaged the majority tissue of his left face, neck, and shoulder. It was hideous, yes, but it was nothing compared to internal organs of a human cadaver in anatomy class.

It was the person himself. I had no doubt that the blond guy was the one covered his face with his jacket hood from yesterday. The whole aura of his still figure was screaming 'dangerous'; even more with all those black leather attire and the metal chain decorating his pants, in irony of the presence of a crucifix from the rosary hanging down his neck.

But the scariest part of all was on his eyes. Those piercing blue eyes practically almost made me flinch.

"What took you so long?" he bellowed, more likely directed to the goggled guy standing in front of me. "I've been waiting here like an idiot! Where's Jack?"

I blinked awkwardly. I assured myself his temper was only one of the painkiller adverse effects he'd been taken in large dose, but Matt's response told me he's used to such demeanor in a daily basis.

"Chills, dude," the striped-clothed redhead said with a lazy grin while raising both hands. "You see, Jack's being a total jackass because I don't see him anywhere. I tried to give him a call and texts, no reply. If someone's to be blamed, it's him, not me."

The blond guy snorted as he snapped off a chunk of chocolate bar clutched to his right hand, before his eyes travelled away and resting at mine. He looked like he just realized I was there. He turned his eyes back to Matt. "Who's that?" he nodded his head toward me.

"Oh, sorry. Mello, you sure remembered the young lady at the hallway from yesterday?" Matt said and pushed me forward. "Now, Val, this is Mello. Mello, this is Valerie, my neighbor. She's here to help you, man. Guess what, she's a med student, second-year-going-on-third-year. And I can see that she's brilliant, believe me. It'll be ok."

The said Mello returned his gaze to me, his eyes scrutinizing. I could barely give a smile at him as a response. Mello then gave Matt a significant look, which I couldn't decipher its meaning.

"Matt," he said, his voice low.

"Relax, Mels," Matt assured him, somehow sounded a bit more serious. "It's ok."

Mello fixed his eyes on the redhead for a few seconds, before finally clicked his tongue and turned on his heels, settling back to the couch. Matt turned his head at me and gave a snarl. "Sorry 'bout that. He's totally screwed up at the moment—"

"I'm not screwed up—"

"—exhausted to death, then. You can start now, Val."

I nodded, trying to suppress my anxiety. After all, this will be the first time I handle a real patient, not a fake one, during medical school study.

"Ok," I replied, took a deep breath and began to move.

* * *

 **Mello**

The gears in my brain wouldn't stop ticking. _Where the hell is Jack_?  
Something was certainly not right. I noted to myself, right after I'm done here I would call him and demand his explanation, and he better got a good one _._

I eyed the girl as she walked to me and put her bag on the table, rummaging the contents until she pulled out a stethoscope and had it hung on her neck. I only hoped Matt knew what he's doing. A mediocre—above of all— _med student_ dared to check on me? Fuck Matt and his weakness to young chicks. Why couldn't he get a _real_ doctor instead?

But no, that also wouldn't do anything. The last thing I wanted was involving an outsider into my business and holding responsibility if anything unwanted happened. And this girl looked quite fragile in my eyes despite the deadpan look. I'd have to talk to Matt about this later.

"You look quite young to be a med student," I commented. Indeed, she didn't look as in the average age of other American med students.

She looked up to meet my eyes, only briefly before she focused back on her bag. "Maybe," she replied. She added after a moment, "I entered med school earlier than most of my colleagues."

"How old were you?"

"21."

Hmm, that would make her 22 to 23 this year if she was a sophomore. A self-assumed-prodigy perhaps? Heh, let's see that in a minute.

Valerie pulled a nearest chair closer to the couch and sat down, her elbows casually resting on her thighs, her hazel eyes looking straight into my blue ones. I could tell under the poker face she put she struggled to hide her uneasiness under my nose.

Couldn't blame her though; every single people ever met me, besides Matt, always felt the same way. _Intimidating appearance_ , remember?

And I wouldn't make it any easy for her. Call me evil but I loved to see people feared my presence.

"Before I start, I need to ask you several questions," Valerie began. "Please be cooperating and answer them."

"And if I'm not?"

Her mouth twitched. I mentally smirked triumphantly. "Then I'll be sorry to say that I may not be any help of your condition, at the same time I'll be sorry to your friend that his good intention doesn't get a well response."

 _She's good at speaking._ My cheery little moment evaporated to dust in an instant. "I never ask _him_ to ask _you_ at the first instance," I said, nodding to Matt and then to her.

"Yes, but you _did_ ask him to find you a doctor—"

"Which you're _not_."

"—and I only do him a favor. Consider this as your way to show him your gratitude."

I rolled my eyes at Matt who was at the moment silently standing behind Valerie, who responded by giving a shrug while tilting his head with a sheepish smile. I returned my attention at the brunette. "And how do I know you're not making any mistake?" I lifted an eyebrow.

Valerie paused for a moment. "I'm trained not to make any."

I barked a scoff. "I feel like being your little guinea pig."

Despite fuming at my not-so-friendly remark, the corner of her lips curled up slightly. "You must be privileged."

"Oh, I am."

"Ookaaayy..." I heard Matt drawled. "Will both of you stop the sarcastic comments and get serious?"

Still maintaining the same look, she leaned back. "Well, I'm about to say enough for the introduction. Now, shall we?"

After that she began asking me questions concerning my symptoms, the conversation was flowing one after another, with Matt helped me answering the questions. I told her everything I experienced after taking the painkillers to treat my burns. I only said that I got the scar from getting trapped inside a building in fire.

As the conversation kept going, I noticed she gradually became a bit calmer. Was one of medical training also including tricks to handle annoying patients? If so then maybe she was one of them who managed to do well. Especially when I was one of those annoying patients. Yeah, I fully acknowledge the fact.

"You got greater impacts than what Vicodin could do," Valerie stated after the questioning, now pulling out a penlight and checked my eyes.

I simply shrugged. "You told me yourself I took more than what it should be."

"Still, yours are more of the uncommon ones. My best guess for now is an allergic reaction." She put aside the penlight and returned to face me, her eyes suddenly narrowed in suspicion. "You got the drugs _legally_ , don't you? You know those are prescribed ones."

"Of course." My tone was crisp as I stole a significant glance at Matt, who did the same, only for a split of second. Valerie didn't need to know that the 'doctor' acquaintance of mine also obtained the drugs _illegally_.

She raised doubtful eyebrows, but said nothing nonetheless. "Please take off your top," she said after that, preparing her stethoscope.

"Can't you just have me unzip the front side?"

"Well, I'll have to check your back as well so—"

"Jeez, alright," I groaned, began to unzip my leather vest and tossed it on the armchair, revealing the rest of the ugly scar covering the left part of my chest. The cool air hit my exposed skin but I didn't even wince. It was nothing compared the freezing air under the roofs of the Mafia hideout.

Valerie didn't budge and I knew what bothered her, so I cut her off before she could open her mouth. "I'm not gonna take this off," I declared firmly while my fingers twisted the rosy beads trailing down my chest.

She turned to Matt who, much to my relief, supported me. "Nobody could make him take that off," my best friend simply told her.

What Matt said was right. The rosary meant a lot to me. I never took it off, even in the shower. I felt naked without it. It's something I always get a hold unto for all my life, to ask for redemption...

She eventually didn't say anything and started working. Plunging the earpieces into her ears, she mumbled a soft "excuse me" when she brought the metal piece closer to my chest.

* * *

 **Valerie**

"You got slow heart rate," I stated as I carefully moved the metal piece below the left collarbone area. I watched Mello bit his lower lip and I supposed maybe he could still feel the pain. God, what kind of accident had he got into? I was more than certain the main cause was mostly harmful chemical compounds that it ruined the entirety of the tissue; moreover it just happened less than a week ago. I found myself feeling a strange empathy of the certain blond man sitting across me.

"I thought painkillers are supposed to slow down heart rate," Matt commented.

I shook my head. "Not all of them. Opiates and opioids tend slow down central nervous system, thus slow the heart rate as well, but nonsteroidal anti-inflammatory analgesics tend to speed the heart rate," I explained. "Vicodin included in opioids, so now I'm pretty sure your friend didn't take the wrong drugs. But to be honest, in Vicodin, slow heart rate and shallow breath are categorized in the infrequent side effects."

Matt looked away from me to Mello. I could see his face was more concerned than before, while the blond said nothing but keeping the same flat face, presumably still under the effect of the analgesics.

I continued inspecting Mello's heart rate. Despite the broad scar, I also got a really good view of his torso. Mello had a lean body, but his was in perfect shape. His muscles perfectly toned up, and...

 _Nah. What the hell, Valerie?_

I mentally slapped myself to retain my focus, now moving on to his back, as I told Mello to breathe in and I listened to his lungs. Nothing spectacular, so I thought I would call it done as I had done anything I could for now.

"It's done. You may get dressed," I said, taking off the stethoscope.

"No preach or injections, maybe?" Mello sneered as he reached for his vest and slid into it.

"Unless you're eager enough to visit the ER, no," I simply replied while I put the tools back to my medical bag, mentally resisted spitting more of my best sarcastic comments to his face. Thankfully I had paid enough attention in class about ways to handle different kinds of patients, including the _annoying_ ones.

I was about to say my conclusion regarding his symptoms when one critical thing passed my mind. I still needed to see the Vicodin he had taken, just to check the authenticity of the drug. I had this feeling telling me these guys didn't get the drug 100% legally.

"Speaking of which, can I see the Vicodin? I just want to take a glimpse," I said.

"Sure. It's at the kitchen counter," Matt replied and I stood up. "By the way, how's he doin'?" he asked, referring to his blond pal.

I faltered for a moment. "Like I said before, I presume he was allergic to the drug, considering the shallow breath and the slow heart rate," I mused. "That's all what I can say for now. But he still has to see the doctor for further diagnose."

"I see..." Matt muttered, his voice trailing off. Then he looked up and smiled at me. "Thanks a lot, Val."

"Your welcome." I smiled back. For a second I took a glimpse at Mello, expecting a simple 'thanks' or so.

Nothing. Only the same frown. _Your welcome, Sir,_ I thought bitterly _._

When I found the small bottle at the kitchen counter, I paid attention at the white pills inside first. They're all the same: white with the word VICODIN on one side.

I opened the bottle and took one pill, securing it between my thumb and index finger as I took a closer look. Well, it appeared like a real Vicodin though... I took my time to observe the rest of the pills from different angles. Hmm. There's no way to test the authenticity unless taking them for a lab test—

"Move."

"Wha—!"

I jumped and immediately spun when I heard someone speaking so sudden behind my back, accidentally knocked the Vicodin bottle off, and at least half the content were thrown to the floor. I gasped, surprised at what just happened.

What's worse, I found myself came face to face with a wide-eyed Mello, glaring at the smashed pills below.


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Thank you for the reviews so far! You guys are sweet :)

* * *

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Death Note or any of the characters except for the OCs.

* * *

 **CHAPTER 4**

 **Mello**

When Valerie disappeared behind the walls bordering the kitchen and the living room, out of hearing range for certain, I couldn't put on the poker face any longer. With Matt's attention on the TV, I took the opportunity to kick him on the shin. Hard.

"OW!" he whined at the hard contact and shot me a glare. "What the f—"

I didn't give him any chance to finish his scolding, instead I pulled his arm in a harsh tug so he didn't have any other option but shifted closer to me. "Look who's talking. What the fuck was _that_ for?" I hissed while keeping my voice low, nodding my head to the kitchen.

For a split second Matt looked puzzled, before finally hissed back at me. "I've told you! Jack isn't coming, we both know you're not ok, so when I know that Val is a med student, will be going for clinical rotation at the second place, I ask her for a help," he sputtered. "Is that a problem?"

"You ask me if that's a problem? Yes, that _is_ a problem. Matt, we've talked about this before! Never involve outs—"

" _Never involve outsiders_ , I know that," Matt interjected. He took a glimpse at kitchen direction, making sure Valerie couldn't hear what we're talking about before continuing. "I'm not a fucking dumbass, ok? I've told you it'll be ok, and I promise you that."

I rolled my eyes. "You don't even know who she really is. There's a slight chance she might be a spy the Rod sends to monitor us or—"

Matt gave a dry laugh. "Spy? Please, Mello, you're being paranoid. She's just a student, that's all."

"I'm NOT paranoid—"

"—Yes, you are." Matt's face suddenly darkened. "I'm doing a favor because I'm worried about you, yet your response is _this?_ "

I began to boil. Now who's giving him permission to get mad at me?

"Can't you just fucking let me finish my sentence without fucking cutting me off?" It took all of my will power not to land my fist to his face; concerning the fact there was still a stranger inside the same room as we were, unaware of anything.

"No, if you keep acting like a fucking douchebag."

NOW THAT was the bait. I opened my mouth to spit more of my best cursing words, only to shut it when I saw Matt's expression.

Behind the tinted glass of his goggles I could see the way he looked at me: exhaustion, annoyance, contempt, and… _concern_.

I paused momentarily. It came to me that he just did what he had to do under this circumstance. And how did I respond to that? Bitching around like a PMSing woman.

Finally I gave up. "I'm sorry," I muttered, averting my gaze away and leaned back to the couch. "You're right. I'm a douchebag."

I felt a hand patted my shoulder and I looked up to see the owner. "It's ok, Mello," Matt spoke quietly. "You've had enough of this, I know that. I should be the one saying sorry."

I snorted. "Then we're even. Problem solved."

Matt gave out a weak smile. "Ok, I know you still don't approve my decision but... it's the least I can do. It makes me sick every time I see your awful condition. How would you get revenge if you're no stronger than a shrimp?"

"I'll get better in no time," I asserted the redhead, my look got even more serious.

Yeah, I'd get better in no time, I promised myself. _Cause I'll make sure I'm gonna be the one to kick that bastard's ass..._

A tingling familiar pain crawling on my skin, making me cringed and cursed. "Fucking pain..." I groaned under my breath. "I'm gonna hit the drug." I stood up and made my way to the kitchen.

"Don't take more than you need!" came Matt's voice behind my back, which I responded with a nonchalant wave. When I came to the kitchen counter I saw Valerie was still observing the pills, her back facing me. She seemed not aware of my presence though.

I made quiet steps approaching her position and stopped right behind her back. Still no response. "Move," I uttered coolly.

"Wha—!"

She suddenly turned around in surprise, surprising me as well, and in the brief moment her hand slapped the opened Vicodin bottle on top of the counter; the bottle fell down to the floor below in a dull sound, and despite my startled self I noticed at least half of the content scattering out of the hollow, many of them were smashed or broken in halves.

It took me a few seconds to process the sudden event. When I did, I slowly turned to the girl who held the responsibility.

* * *

 **Valerie**

I gulped nervously when Mello sent me such a dangerous, cold stare, making me grew stiff on the spot. I admitted I didn't notice his presence at all when I was checking the Vicodin pills, as I was too absorbed on my thoughts, but to my luck it was now... _oh_ , dammit.

Now he's gonna yell at me for throwing out his medicine. The sight of his scarred face, looking at me in such dark looks assured me that. _I'm doomed._

"Look what you've done," Mello hissed in the most menacing tone I've ever heard.

"I'm sorry... Y-you surprised me!" I quickly retorted, my hands clenching to the kitchen counter desk, slightly trembling. He should've known I was truly sorry about the simple accident, and moreover, I was feeling like a trapped mouse under the whole dangerous aura coming out from him. But I guess he wasn't in the mood of forgiving someone so quickly.

"That's my medicine you threw away, you know that?!" Mello glared at me, pointing to the scattering pills.

Matt quickly jolted from the living room and joined us. "Mello, stop it." He put his hand on Mello's shoulder. "She didn't do it intentionally, you're overreacting."

I watched Mello swatted Matt's hand and shot the goggled redhead a glare. " _Overreacting?_ I don't give a damn whether it's intentional or not, she disposed half of them!" he sputtered.

I flinched over his harsh tone. I knew he was mad, in a greater amount possibly due to the analgesic effects, but much worse because it was _me_ whom he threw his tantrum to. I could feel my heart hammered fast of fear.

"I-I'm sorry..." I stammered, averting my eyes to the floor. I just couldn't help myself to look at the raging blond man. "I'm really sorry—I promise I will—"

But that time, when I looked at the floor, something distracted my attention. I fixed my eyes at the smashed pills and the powdery substance generated from them. I stuck my head further to the floor to have a better look, and when I did, my eyes widened.

* * *

 **Mello**

I waited for her next words, but they didn't come. Instead, Valerie fixed her gaze at the pills on the floor. There I noticed there was a change; she wasn't trembling anymore. Her breathing gradually became steadier, and her face suddenly got a lot more serious. Her eyebrows furrowed deeper like she was thinking hard of something.

Slowly, she released her grip off the kitchen counter desk and crouched down, not taking her eyes off the scattered pills. Matt and I exchanged looks, bemused. Had this girl gone insane or what?

Valerie extended her index finger and tapped a bit of powder from the crashed pills, and _now_ I guess I knew the cause. My eyebrows furrowed, and so did Matt.

The pills were white, the three of us knew that well, but inside of the broken pills were _brown_ powder.

She brought her finger coated with the powder to her nose and sniffed it. Then her eyes grew as wide as plates.

She stood up, almost losing balance because she got up so sudden, but quickly retained it back as she turned to Matt, her face surprisingly more serious than ever. Her next words were no less confusing than her attitudes.

"Matt, if you have a tin foil with you, please bring it to me. And I'll have to borrow your lighter."

* * *

 **Valerie**

After the required materials were ready, I quickly moved, not wasting any time. _It can't be..._ I mused in silence, squeezing my brain in process whilst my nimble hands working their ways in deft movement. But if my suspicion's proven true anyway, the symptoms would make sense. So I need to perform a little experiment. I wasn't a B.A. in Chemistry for nothing.

Attempting to ignore the intense stares from the two other guys, I washed my hands and put on the medical gloves I brought along with the medical bag.

I tore a small piece of the tin foil and heated the entire surface with the lighter to burn off all possible toxic coatings. Next, using a knife I found inside one of the drawers, I scooped a small amount of the brown powder from the broken pills and dropped it on the foil, then heated it as well.

And the result was... as what as I expected.

From what was powdery substance, it was now melted in to dark beetle looking blob surrounded by white smoke.

" _Heroin_."

Matt whispered in disbelief, taking a closer look at the blob. I turned to Mello, his expression was no more different than the redhead. He stared at me, his steely eyes demanding an explanation.

"No wonder you got more severe symptoms..." I started carefully. I was astonished as well. "You've been, unknowingly, taking heroin every day, for the entire week."

Mello opened his mouth, but no sound came out. It's clearly seen that he was completely taken aback with the result. He and Matt then exchanged looks, the same stern look I saw him gave his pal a few hours ago, which I still couldn't decipher the meaning.

Now it's a perfect time for me to ask for an explanation. Breaking the uncomfortable silence I began, "You said you got the drug legally. And legit drugs wouldn't get smashed so easily like that. Now can you please tell me the complete story?" I eyed the two men before me.

They didn't say anything, seemingly still in shock, but I could see from their states they were bundles of nerves. And not a mere tense; I understood they were astonished since I found out about the fake yet illegal drug, but was it really necessary to have such grim—and may I say— _ominous_ looks?

The second later, I got my reply.

 _BANG!_


	6. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Death Note or any of the characters except for the OCs.

* * *

 **CHAPTER 5**

 **Mello**

 _BANG!_

A gunshot rang through the air followed by the sound of broken glass jolted me and turned my attention right away. My trained eyes followed the direction of the noise and I spotted shattering glass on the floor below the windows near the living room. Holy shit, what the hell was going on here?

"Get on the floor!" I hollered, instinctively strolled across the room reaching for my Beretta hidden under the couch seat. I heard Valerie gasped faintly from under the kitchen counter and I cursed inwards. _Dammit, there's going to be a long explanation after this_.

Two more gunshots being fired, resulting in more shattering pieces of glass, and one of them penetrated through one of Matt's laptops.

"Fucking hell!" Matt cursed, moving fast to grab his gun stored inside the desk drawer. "For the sake of Mario's mushrooms I swear whoever does this gonna pay for it!"

"Save your fucking rant for later!" I quickly shifted to the wall next to the windows and knelt down, my gun positioned securely in my hands. Matt followed me and knelt on the other side. I peered through the blinds in vigilance to see who the fucking asshole behind this assault was.

Down there were parked two black limousines with five armed men standing in black suits, aiming their gunpoint toward Matt's windows. Behind them, someone with big built body leaning lazily on to the limousine, smoking cigar and arms crossed. My eyes were now as wide as plates at the sight of the person.

Shit. _HOLY FUCKING SHIT._

It's him. _Rod Ross is_ _here_.

What the fuck that bastard and his men doing here? Moreover, _how_ did he found my location?

Another gunshot was fired to the windows and I jumped aside. "Fuck!" I swore loudly and aimed my gun through the window, shooting several times at those men. Two of them fell down while the rest dodged, firing more bullets to the windows. And now I saw them running toward the lobby. I was more than sure they would break in to the apartment.

"Uh oh, not so fast, baby." Matt sneered and fired his gun to the running men. As the result there was a smoke explosion surrounding them. A grin passed my lips. Matt's gun was peculiarly designed as a smoke bomb launcher. The smoke should keep them entertained for now.

"Nice shot," I said as I got up and grabbed my forgotten jacket, quickly putting them on. "We need to get out of here. Matt, prepare the car right away, I'll keep them busy for a while."

"No way." I turned to Matt who was looking firmly into my eyes. "Mello, you're the one they want. There's no fucking way I'm gonna let you do that. I'll do the job."

I glared at him. "But—"

"Besides, there's a young lady here who needs to get out as soon as possible."

He jerked his thumb and I followed the direction. Dammit, I almost forgot about Valerie. She cowered at the corner of the kitchen, trembling furiously, looking at our direction in fear. Shit. She had seen everything and there's no way I could let her go freely. _Must things get even more troublesome at times like this?_

I stumbled across the room to her position and hovered over her. "You're coming with me," I said in a low voice.

She didn't respond, seemingly losing her mobility, so I aimed my gun at her face. "Now." I raised my tone.

"Mello!" I heard Matt protested, but I ignored him. It's not like I had other choice. For now this was the only way so she would obey my order.

Valerie looked at my gunpoint in such horror written all over her face, finally getting up slowly, still trembling as hell. Once she could stand up I grabbed her roughly by her wrist and quickly stormed off, shoving the gun barrel to her side. "I'll call you later," I briefly said to Matt when we were already outside his flat.

"Ok. Take the emergency exit. I'm gonna play a little with these guys."

"Be careful."

With that, we parted ways as he made his way to the stairs. My hand gripped firmly unto Valerie's wrist as I literally dragged her with me to the emergency exit.

* * *

 **Valerie**

Holy shit, what was—WHAT THE FUCK just happened?

I was far beyond shocked. Everything just blurred so fast I barely could remember any of the events.

I heard gunshots. Mello and Matt had guns. Somebody was going after them. I was being at Mello's gunpoint. _And now_ _I'm a hostage?_

Mello was dragging me along down the emergency stairs, skipping two or three stairs at once as I struggled to keep on to his fast pace with my numb legs. He didn't spoke any word, nor did I. His gun barrel was being shoved deeply under my ribs. His grip on my wrist was so tight that I winced, and I was sure it might leave bruise marks.

Trail of questions flooded my mind. _WHO are these people? WHAT the hell I_ _'ve_ _just gotten into?_

I saw everything, I knew they were no ordinary citizens, and I was more than certain they had to bring me along as their hostage so I wouldn't have any chance to run away.

Which led to another horrible question. _Are they going to KILL me?_

The thought itself made my breath hitched at my throat and my body trembled even more in horror.

We arrived at the basement and Mello pulled me harshly to his parked motorbike. He finally let go of my wrist, pulled out his keys and started the engine, boding in loud roaring noise. I could only watch him in silence, supporting myself by the nearest wall so I wouldn't collapse right here and right now, because my knees wouldn't stop shaking. A thought of calling the police passed my mind, but suddenly I remembered I left my cell phone in my bag and obviously I didn't have it with me right now.

I wasn't a crybaby but now I was on the verge of crying. Paranoia began kicking in. I started thinking about school, friends, and moreover: my family. Would I see them again? Dear God, can't I just get out of here by myself?

No, the latter was not evenly possible; here I was having troubles in managing myself to stand still hence I didn't even have energy left to walk, let alone running away...

Mello put on his helmet and settled himself on the motorbike before turning his head to me. "Get on," he said ominously while once again aiming his gun. Not having any other choice, I slowly stepped forward, swung my leg over the seat, and settling down behind him. I was in such a mess to the point I didn't even care that I wouldn't be wearing a helmet.

"W-where are we going?" I stuttered cautiously, my voice was raucous.

His booted feet pushed the gas and the engine roared louder. "Far," he answered gruffly, and before any of us could utter another word he took off. Soon we were out of the building and speeding down the highway, the whole sight of vehicles and buildings came into rapid blurry vision. Mello drove madly, guiding his motorbike weaving through the narrowest gaps on the crowded road.

Cold wind rushed through my sides but at this circumstance I was perplexed enough not to care about it. Both my mind and my heart raced painfully fast. I had to clench my arms tighter on his waist regarding his crazy speed.

When we came into an intersection, without even braking he turned left in swift motion, entering a much less crowded narrow street. We kept moving straight forward while Mello maintaining the same speed, nearly hitting some of the pedestrians. But unfortunately, a big surprise had been waiting for us...

* * *

 **Mello**

I noticed two black limousines at the end of the street, blocking the way, and I had to brake abruptly, forcing my bike to stop in the middle of the street. Behind the front glass I could see the familiar men in black suit. My whole body grew stiff in alert. Matt was supposed to act as bait to those limousines and lead them as far from me as he could, wasn't he? So why were they here, right under my nose? Oh God, don't tell me that...

Hold on a sec. At the apartment I had taken a glimpse of the limousines' plate numbers and kept the little information in my mind. But these limousines before my eyes had different numbers.

My jaw clenched. I was slightly relieved since it meant Matt was ok, but _fuck_. I should have anticipated they would bring more men with them. Rod wasn't a complete idiot, I should have known there's no way he would only take five men with him to New York if he was after me. I wouldn't be surprised if there were more of them guarding the whole area surrounding the apartment location. I cursed mentally at my own carelessness.

At the moment I could feel Valerie's grip tightened around my waist. I could feel her trembling as well as giving erratic breathes behind my back. _Dammit, having a girl with me in a situation like this would only limit my movement_...

During seconds that felt like ages, my eyes wildly observed my surroundings. Even though this street was much less crowded, still there were pedestrians walking by. I couldn't risk using my gun right here, but the same would apply to those men inside the limousines as well. They were experienced Mafioso and they wouldn't risk revealing their true identity in front of the citizens. The simple thought erased a small portion of my uneasiness.

The limousines started moving. Shit. I gotta be quick!

Bracing myself, I roared the engine and swiftly made a U-turn. I could hear the limousines behind me sped up as well, so I pressed the gas, pushing my bike faster, and moving forward to the previous intersection. But suddenly a blur of red flashing from an alley of my right direction, nearly crashed me down if only the driver didn't hit the brake at the crucial time. I heard Valerie yelped. The sudden encounter forced me to stop as well, and I was ready to beat the fucking asshole behind the wheel up when a head poked out of the driver's window frame.

"Jesus, Mels! You surprised me!" came the hectic voice from a familiar face.

"Matt?" I blinked, eyes wide opened. "How the hell do you get here? Do they lose you?"

"Well, I suppose I managed to confuse them since I take random winding turns on the alleys but..." A sound of moving vehicle behind his car cut him off. Matt snarled. "... _Oh shit_. Here we go again."

"Go!" With that both of us sped away from the three limousines and we're back to the crowded highway, I was being on the lead, racing through the other vehicles and ignoring the sound of angry horns directed to me. Despite the cold air, beads of streaming sweat began to pour alongside my temples. I seethed inside. _Rod you son of a bitch._ _What else now do you want from me?_

Suddenly Matt's car appeared by my right side and I glanced slightly at his direction when the window slid down, revealing his face. "Mello!" he cried out loud among the noise of the highway, "I'll use the bombs!"

"No way!" I hollered back. "Matt, we're on the public!"

"But we're only wasting time! We've got to stop them immediately!"

"Do you wish to live behind the bars, huh?!"

"No if I could avoid it!" Matt slipped in through a narrow gap between two cars in front of him before turning his focus back to me. "But still, we have to do something!"

My thoughts battling. There were too much risk, but as what Matt said, we've got to shove Rod and his men immediately. Finally I turned my head back on him. "Fine, but wait until the next intersection!"

A wide grin passed the redhead's face. "Roger!" he said before he disappeared behind the black tinted window, and I retained my focus on the road.

We reached the next intersection in the nick of time. Luckily there weren't too much vehicles here, and from the rear-view mirrors I saw the limousines were now chasing right behind our backs. I casted a look at the traffic light that blaring a bright green light, silently prayed so it wouldn't turn red within the next seconds.

When the light went yellow, I gave an approving code toward Matt. He replied by a thumb-up.

The glass window beside him went down, followed by his head poking out of the frame as well as his outstretched gas launcher, turning backwards. Matt shot several times at the direction of the limousines and soon a large amount of smoke surrounded them, blocking their view of my bike and Matt's car as well as impeding their movement. Both Matt and I used the brief opportunity to speed up through the intersection, just in time before the light turned red.

The vehicles that were previously lining up from both left and right side were now rushing to each opposite directions. When that happened, Matt and I had successfully reached the other side. We made winding turns through an alley before finally found a place to stop.

I took my helmet off and placed it in front of my bike, swiping the sweat over my forehead and temples. Valerie finally took her death grip off my waist. I got off the bike and exhaled sharply in relief. We made it safe and we managed to stay out of Rod for this time. _Thank goodness_...

Matt stepped down from his car. "Man, we made it!" he exclaimed. "That was fun. I should give it a go with the cops some other time! Just kiddin' Mels," he quickly added when I threw him a glare.

"Don't party too soon," I reminded him. "Now that Rod knows I'm in New York we've got to keep our eyes open all time. Obviously the bastard got other nasty tricks under his sleeves."

"If so, then we'll built up something that even nastier," Matt replied slyly while leaning unto the door and crossed his arms. "Now what are you up to? We can't go back to the apartment—well, at least for this noon."

"I have in mind that I will—"

"Before you discuss that," a raspy feminine voice interrupted my sentence and both Matt and I turned our attention away.

Valerie struggled to get off the bike and when she did, she drew herself up before our eyes. Her face blanched, her body quivered, but even I had to admit that the furious look of hers ditched all the jitters.

"Can someone explain _what is going on?_ I'm still here, people!" Her eyes glared daggers at Matt's and mine.

I bit my lower lip. Fuck. This really gonna be a _long_ explanation.


	7. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Death Note or any of the characters except for the OCs.

* * *

 **CHAPTER 6**

"Boss, are you sure about letting them go?"

Rod Ross shifted his cold gaze to his subordinate, took the cigar off his lips and blew the thick smoke to the air, keeping the calm posture altogether. "We've done the main work," he answered in a deep rough voice. "Meeting Keehl is only a bonus. I just wanted to say hi to the Don's little brat."

"But Mello got his own accomplices," one of his men said doubtfully. "We only saw two, but what if there are more of them?"

As a response, Ross barked out a long laugh that would send goose bumps. "So what?" The big-built man gave an ominous toothy grin. "We won't be having fun if no obstacles represent themselves, right?"

"But, Boss—"

"That settles it," Ross cut firmly. "We're going back."

The rest of the men nodded at the same time. "Yes, Sir."

* * *

 **Valerie**

"Well?" I raised my eyebrow, still eyeing the blond and the redhead in front of me. I was raising the stakes here; despite the tough attitudes I put up before them I was still in shock and absolute fear. But the indignation was much bigger it swallowed both the shock and fear. I wouldn't wait any longer. I saw red. After what I had been through this afternoon, I wanted a clear explanation, NOW.

Both Mello and Matt looked at each other for a few moments, seemingly considering their next response. "Who will tell her?" Matt mouthed.

"I'll do it," Mello said. Finally the blond man turned back at me, his icy blue eyes met mine. "It's a long story."

"Then spit all of it," I retorted.

"If I tell you, I'll have to kill you." As if to prove his words, his gloved hand reaching behind his jacket and pulled out his gun in a blink of an eye, and so once again I was standing at the gunpoint. My heart jumped in my throat at the unpredictable move and unconsciously I took one step backward.

"Mello." Matt warned in low voice.

"But since you've saved my life in some sort of way," Mello continued, clearly disliked the fact, "I'll spare you this time. I'm not a jerk." He lowered his gun and tucked it back on the hem of his pants. Finally I could breathe.

So basically he said if only I hadn't figured out about the heroin, he would have shot me right here and right now for sure.

Of course I didn't say that out loud, but I caught the hint. The matter must be serious enough until Mello said that he'd kill me if he told me. Whatever it was, I didn't like the idea even a tad.

"... Thanks," I said uneasily.

"Don't be," he snarled. "It's only a paid back, that's all."

"I know that."

"Promise you'd never tell anyone."

"I won't. I promise."

"How do we know you'll keep your mouth shut?"

I paused for a while at his question. Hesitatingly, I replied, "You may set cameras at my place, put on bugs... anything you consider necessary."

"I think that's not necessary though." I looked at Matt who was putting on a very serious expression on his face. "She's a young lady and it'll be rude to intrude her personal space."

Mello groaned. "Lady or not, it's the same."

"No it's not. We'll just have to make sure she promises us." Matt turned to me. "Can we count on you, Val?" he inquired solemnly.

I gulped and gave a tiny nod. "Yeah." _I guess_ , a tiny voice inside my head followed.

Mello shifted from his position, taking a step closer to me. "Just for you to know, we can hunt you down if you do anything unnecessary. Got that?"

I flinched at his cold threatening tone, but nodded nonetheless. "Ok," I said. Taking a deep breath, I continued. "So, will you tell me the whole story now?"

The following thick silence was almost unbearable. Then Mello took a deep breath. His scarred face darkened.

"The men you saw," he began, "they're in the Mafia."

* * *

 **Mello**

"The men you saw, they're in the Mafia."

I finally said it. And the following reaction was as I expected.

Valerie's eyes grew as wide as plates. She blinked. Once. Twice. Then she took a few steps back as she looked at me in distraught. "You're joking," she said in low voice, shaking her head.

"In this situation, you think I'm joking?" I deadpanned. "I'm not. Because I was one of them. And Matt is a hacker who helps me keeping an eye of the Mafia activities for the time being."

She was taken aback, but said nothing nonetheless, so I just continued telling her my story. "Our central hideout is in LA. And to speak the truth, I was supposed to take over the Mafia family since the last Don passed away just a couple of weeks ago."

Valerie looked uncertain. "... Yet, you're in New York?"

"Courtesy of a certain incident." I mused grimly, the memory of the horrible night from the week before flashing back before my eyes. "I didn't get these burns from getting trapped inside a building in fire as what I told you. I got it from an explosion in the hideout, which I set up by myself."

The brunette's jaw dropped but she stayed silent, seemingly letting the information I gave her sink in.

"What makes you did that?" she asked carefully.

I faltered for several moments. "That man named Rod Ross..." I cringed in disgust, my nails digging deeply into my palms. "He's the one setting up the Don's death."

Valerie's brows furrowed. "But why? So he could..."

"So he could take over the family and get the whole money for himself, yeah." I gritted my teeth. "Rod knows all along that I've never been interested in taking over the Mafia. It was alright with me if he wants to be the next boss; he was the Don's right hand man after all. But ever since I found out that the fucking rat was the one responsible behind the Don's murder... I know I couldn't let him slip through my fingers. But who could possibly guess—"

I raised my tone and kicked a dumpster ferociously, making both Matt and Valerie jumped. The dumpster fell down in noisy clanking sound, the content littered on the ground below. Taking deep breaths and released them slowly through my pursed lips, I struggled to suppress the seething blood that was now flowing through my vessels. "—the tables are turned now..."

There was a full minute of silence before Valerie spoke again, this time her voice was more like a cautious whisper, "The Don... is he your father?"

I shook my head. "No," I replied. Hesitatingly, I added, "The old man adopted me. I had always looked upon him as my own father though because I had never got to know my biological family."

Valerie looked at me questioningly. I was restraining myself from telling her more of myself, but I knew if I didn't move on we would get nowhere.

Inhaling a deep breath, I decided to tell her the bitter truth. "I grew up without my birth parents."

Right after the words escaped my lips, I caught something flashed in Valerie's eyes, and I knew what it was. _Pity._

I had seen the same look too many times that I lost count since I was in the orphanage, going through my adolescence era, up until I joined the Mafia. Why did people like to look at me as if I'm some incapable, lonesome orphan? That bode nothing but making my blood boiled to the peak.

She cast her eyes down. "I'm sorry—"

"I don't need your pity!"

Her shoulders flinched at my harsh tone. "I-I'm just..." Her voice trailing off, but she never finished her sentence. Instead, she shook her head. "Nothing, forget it… So Rod and his men follow you to New York?"

"That's exactly what I'm dreading to know," I sputtered, shoving my hands deep into my jacket pockets. "How the hell he knows I'm here? I escaped in the middle of the explosion so there's no fucking way anyone had the chance to see me. The only ones know are Matt and—"

I stopped when a sudden realization hit me. My eyes narrowed in vigilance at the emerged idea.

"Jack." _I c_ _an_ _be no wrong._

"Who?"

I ignored the question as I looked back at Matt, who was alerted as well. "Matt, it's Jack. He must've told Rod about me," I asserted. Fuck. How could I miss that?

"Maybe, but don't take a conclusion so soon, Mello," Matt said, although I could tell from his way of speaking he was uncertain as well. "We don't have any proof."

"The odd way he spoke at the phone? The heroin? The assault? These are more than enough to prove it!"

"We still don't know about that. Maybe Rod forced him to? That big bald dude surely knows how to use his men to his advantage."

I considered the probability. Much to my dismay, if that was the truth, I wouldn't be surprised. That big rat had always used disgusting methods to get what he wanted. But I had to make sure of it by myself.

"Matt, you got one your laptops inside the car?"

"Yeah, as always. Why?"

I tossed him my cell phone. "Track down Jack's cell phone. We're gonna make him spit everything."

* * *

 **A/N:** Uh-oh. Jack's in trouble.

Sorry this one's short. But as always, let me know what you think! Reviews and constructive criticism are always welcomed!

* * *

 _ **Coming up next...**_

 _"Would you let me go now?"_

 _"No."_

* * *

 _I couldn't trust these guys. Criminals never kept their promises._

* * *

 _This is no time to concern modesty._

* * *

 _"I know you're here. Open the fucking door!"_

* * *

 _Something clearly isn't right_.


	8. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Death Note or any of the characters except for the OCs.

* * *

 **CHAPTER 7**

 **Valerie**

Matt took his laptop from the car trunk (seriously, how many laptops he had?) and started working. I perched quietly at the edge of the car hood, watching the goggled redhead connecting Mello's cell phone to the USB port and launching numbers of programs. Hacker or not, this guy was in no doubt a computer whiz, I thought, as Matt's fingers running haphazardly on the keyboard, typing long complicated commands.

Meanwhile, Mello sat back on his motorbike, watching his accomplice working whilst casually eating the chocolate bar clutched to his left hand.

My thoughts wandered as I mused in silence. _Mafia_.

I had often heard the particular word everywhere: in movies, books, or news. But now I had seen them for real in flesh. These two guys I was dealing with were part of the infamous crime syndicate, _if_ they were telling the truth.

But screw that—whether that was the truth or not, I only knew for a fact that at the very moment I was travelling with two very dangerous strangers; possibly murderers, criminals, fugitives, or whatever, and that didn't make it any better.

I seriously considered running away. I really did, with Matt's attention on the laptop and Mello's on him. But I wasn't an idiot for taking such a big risk just like that. Just then I simply demanded them about what's going on, and it almost cost me my life at the hand of the ex-Mafioso. Who knew what would happen if I dared taking only one step away from the car with him only a few steps away to choke the life out of me?

As sickening as it was, I better out played safe here. What was left now was hoping and waiting for them to let me go and keeping an eye on me for the rest of my life. So much for _helping a neighbor out..._

"Mello," I called cautiously.

He rolled those steely eyes at my direction. I hesitated for a while there, afraid if I was being nosy and would end up being at the gunpoint once again, but I could see Mello was waiting for me to continue. So I did, "You haven't told me about the person named Jack."

Mello finished his last bite of chocolate. "Jack is the scientist in the Mafia and once my loyal underling," he said."The doctor Matt told you? It's him."

"The one sent you the Vicodin?"

"Yeah." Mello crumpled the chocolate wrapper into a ball and tossed it to the scattering litter, then took a new bar from his jacket pocket. "Never have I ever imagined he would be such lowly traitor," he growled while tearing the wrapper off and bit a large chunk of the chocolate.

So I was right about the illegal drug. I was contemplating, staring down at my fiddling thumbs. I've forgot that I was still wearing my medical gloves, but in such situation I wasn't in the mood to take them off. My thoughts were too busy dwelling among many other things.

I still had a crucial thing disrupting my mind, and I must have it clarified now or never.

"Can I ask you one more thing?" I proposed.

"Only one."

I paused only for a second. Swallowing my pride, I continued, "Would you let me go now?"

The chocolate bar that was moving to Mello's mouth stopped midway and now I had his full attention. His eyes narrowed menacingly. "No."

 _I knew it_... "Why?" My voice was weak.

Mello raised one eyebrow. "I thought I said only one question." But he answered nonetheless, "You have to come along with me to Jack. You figured the heroin after all. Are we clear?"

I gave it a silence thought. "Ok..." I mumbled absently. "After that, can I go home?"

This time it was Mello's turn to stay quiet for several moments, before finally uttering, "We'll decide it later."

I didn't say anything more and gazed back at my lap. Now they would hold me captive for real. Who knows if they would decide to change their minds in the end and still going to kill me? Or plotting a rape in order to traumatize me for the rest of my life? Beating me up and leaving me half-dead? Locking me down and torturing me somewhere dark and cold and out of reach? Targeting my friends and my family and send me their body parts to make sure I learn my place?

 _Or_ _worse_ —I winced in horror— _all of them?_

The more of these gruesome thoughts coming, the wilder they were, the more they sent cold shivers down my spine, and the closer I was for losing my sanity. Instinctively I wrapped my arms around myself, reciting prayers incessantly inside my head while mentally screaming for help. I couldn't trust these guys. Criminals never kept their promises. My heart raced faster and I buried my face deeper.

Great. Just great.

* * *

 **Mello**

 _She's crying._

Other people might not see that, but my eyes had been trained to see what mediocrities couldn't see.

Valerie sat still in the same position: hunched, staring downward, face entirely hidden beneath the curtain mess of long dark strands, arms wrapped around her, and one with perfect observational skill would notice her shoulders shaking.

I knew she was purposefully trying to hide her mental breakdown in front of us strangers, criminals in the second place, but she couldn't fool these exceptionally sharp eyes of mine.

Ok, despite all the harsh attitudes and words I had thrown at her face, deep down inside, I had to admit I owed her an apology. Obviously this wasn't what she expected back when she first stepped into Matt's flat, and not what I expected as well. I mean, how could you expect that? She had almost been shot, been taken by force, been threatened at a gunpoint, and now she couldn't even go home in peace.

All of sudden I felt a lump in my throat. _And I had taken part_ _i_ _n all of those horrid acts..._

That's why I disagree with Matt's decision firsthand. Involving a total stranger into our—no— _my_ business worth too much risk for both parties, no matter what the reason was.

Still, who would have thought that Rod was in New York to the fact that he almost cornered me like that? Even I myself had a hard time to believe the turn of events.

I watched Valerie sneaked her hand to her face that was covered by her hair, possibly wiping away her tears as she made a quiet, almost inaudible sniff. Suddenly I didn't really crave for chocolate anymore.

I was more than aware that at the moment she was scared as hell of both Matt and I. Fuck that—most likely of _me_ since I was the one who kept pushing her over the edge the whole day, but actually she didn't have to worry about anything. I was a man of my word. I had told her that I wouldn't kill her for she had saved me in sort of way, and I meant it. I never planned to kill anybody after all.

But Valerie obviously didn't think the same, and I wasn't in the right place to blame her...

"Bing-Oh!"

Matt's voice disrupted my deep muse—thankfully—and I gave him my attention. Valerie also looked up, making a last swift motion to wipe her cheek and turning to Matt. "It's from an abandoned apartment building, just a few blocks away from this place," Matt said, grinning. "We're lucky. It might only take ten minutes ride. But I wonder how can we be sure he's actually present and not only his cell phone?"

"There's only one way to know," I said drearily as I shifted on the seat and put on my helmet. "Hit the place."

Ten minutes later (actually I made it into seven since I drove like a psycho), we arrived at the building Matt mentioned. Indeed, it was an abandoned building, four storeys apparently. Looking at the rotten condition and the moss spreading over the filthy walls, it seemed like it had been abandoned many years ago.

I stopped my bike at the front door and Matt parked his Camaro next to me. He stepped out of the car, inspecting the scene before us.

"Man, total mess," he commented thoughtfully. "Not to mention spooky."

"I wouldn't be the one talking," I sneered at him after disregarding my helmet and stepped down from my bike, approaching his car. I stopped just before the front door, my eyes were fixated on the silent girl inside. I had made Valerie took the car this time. It was my mere good intention since I thought she needed a decent seat concerning her condition and the weather, but of course, I didn't tell her that.

"You," I knocked the window, "follow me." I had to bring her along when I demand Jack's explanation about the heroin. She could present some arguments in case Jack would retort.

The brunette turned, scrutinizing me with weary eyes. I considered re-aiming my gun at her since there was no response, but she opened the door before I could move a finger. "Ok," she replied. She added a second later, more like a mumbled whisper directed to herself, "No need to use your gun."

She stepped down and closed the door, joining me on the ground. I felt a pang of guilt at her last remark, but quickly shut it down. _This is no time to concern modesty_. I would give a proper apology later once we had everything settled.

I turned to the goggled redhead who was enjoying his cigarette at the moment. "Matt, stay here. Call me if anything happens."

Matt took the cigarette off his lips and grinned sheepishly. "Roger that, Mels."

Without wasting any second (and without caring for the fact that Matt had once again called me with that fucking dumb nickname), Valerie and I approached the building and I pushed the moldy door open. My gun was readily secured between my fingers. As we entered, my footsteps echoed hauntingly every time they clunked against the stony ground. I swept my gaze across the whole room once we're inside.

This place was totally dim, almost completely dark, if it wasn't the sun ray penetrating through the shattered windows, giving a faint light inside the hall. There were no signs of anybody here though; my sharp predator senses assured me that.

"Should we search every room?" Valerie asked quietly.

"No need to," I said, digging into my pocket and pulled out my cell phone. I dialed Jack's number right away. There was a long silence before the dial tone started ringing. _Once... twice... thrice..._

A faint cell phone ringtone rang through the air, and it was from the upper floors. But no one answered the call.

I looked at Valerie and she did the same, then we hurriedly rushed through the stairs, following the direction of the ringing sound until we hit the fourth floor. It came from inside one of the closed rooms. Still no one answered as the ringtone kept ringing without a pause, filling the thick aura.

I attempted to open the door but apparently it was locked. "Jack!" I hammered the wooden surface of the door. "I know you're here. Open the fucking door!"

I called for a few more times, only to get nothing for response. Was the idiot sleeping or what? But that couldn't possibly happen in this kind of situation. My brows twitched. _Something clearly isn't right_.

I turned to Valerie. "Close your ears," I ordered and I suppose she caught the hint; Valerie pressed her palms against her ears and took a few steps back. I aimed my gun at the keyhole. Three shots rang and stopped, leaving a stinging uncomfortable silence. I beckoned Valerie to follow me. Making sure that the lock had broken, I harshly grabbed the handle while at the same time pushed the door open, and we burst in.

The first sight that came after that stunned me.

There on the floor, Jack Neylon was laying on his back, dwelling in pool of dry blood, with dozens of gunshot wounds over his chest.

* * *

 **A/N:** Whoa. Look who decides to go on writing spree lol.

And I'm starting to consider changing the category from romance to suspense since I think it would fit the story best (Mello and Val's relationship progression will still continue as planned, so no worries), what do you think?

Anyways, review, please? :) *wink wink*

* * *

 _ **Coming up next...**_

 _"What are you doing?"_

 _I hesitated before I gave him a response. "I just… I want to give this a try. Estimating his time of death, I mean. Maybe it could clarify a few things?"_

* * *

 _Maybe Jack had wanted to show me something... But what?_

* * *

 _"MELLO, GET OUT OF THERE RIGHT NOW!" Matt's voice screeching out of the phone..._

* * *

 _"Listen, I understand if you don't trust me, but look around you! You think you have better options here?!"_

 _"You're just going to let me die down there!"_

 _"Unless you're eager enough to die, missy, I'M NOT!"_

* * *

 _I must be out of my mind_.


	9. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Death Note or any of the characters except for the OCs.

* * *

 **CHAPTER 8**

 **Valerie**

 _Dear God._

For a minute that felt like an eternity, I was shocked at the scene before my eyes. Too shocked I couldn't even move an inch. I opened my mouth but nothing came out, I could only look at the gory, blood-smeared body lying on the floor.

"Jack." Mello strode into the room in a flash and crouched down before the unconscious body. I watched as the leather-clad blond yanked the man's shirtsleeve and checked the pulse on his wrist.

"Is he...?"

Mello let go of the wrist, his expression turned to somewhat a grim. His gaze was still fixated on the body and I noticed he was no less shocked than I was."Shit..." he muttered, and I learned the truth. Jack Neylon was dead.

I instinctively made a cross sign, and once I could regain my composure I approached Jack's body in steady steps. When I had a closer look, I immediately noted that Jack Neylon was a tall lanky man with long ash blond hair. The body condition was really awful. Behind the cracked round glasses, his eyes were wide-opened they freaked me out; seemingly in total shock at the time he was shot.

I could have passed out at the amount of blood from the gunshot wounds. I had seen many trauma or GSW* patients back in my pre med internship days, but _none_ like this. There were at least fifteen or more of them that had penetrated various vital spots across the torso. The whole sight sent shivers down my spine.

"Did the Mafia do this?" I asked Mello, my voice quivered.

Mello tilted his head, glancing up to me. "There's no doubt," he stated gravely. "Killing Jack bode to nothing in term of profit except for them. After all, no one knows Jack's in New York at the moment."

I mused on his answer, staring back at the dead body. Now I realized how serious this situation was. The whole Mafia business was most likely real. Led by Rod Ross, they would kill anyone who stood in their ways, no matter who and no matter how. I cringed in disgust at the thought.

Then, despite my battling mind, I managed to think about something. I wasn't sure about what I would be going to do, but it worth a try. My medical training and curiosity began to kick in. _This is an extremely rare opportunity I simply couldn't miss._

I knelt down beside Jack's body and absently took one arm with my hands, earning a confused look from Mello. "What are you doing?" he asked within a hint of suspicion.

I hesitated before I gave him a response. "I just… I want to give this a try. Estimating his time of death, I mean. Maybe it could clarify a few things?" I replied vaguely. But the second later a thought struck me. "Is there a slight chance that the police would come? They would notice someone has moved the body."

He contemplated for a while. "I guess not... the Mafia wouldn't choose a place that attracts much attention when it comes to business," he mused. Then his eyes leered back at mine. "You sure you can figure it out?"

"Not really... but it will lead to nowhere unless I give it a try."

Mello stared at me for a moment, seemingly gauging my credibility. Finally he gave a single nod. "Be my guest."

* * *

 **Mello**

I watched as Valerie's deft hands started working; I was quite impressed by the fact that she didn't faint nor vomit at the horrible sight of the bloody corpse, even though I didn't miss the slightest quiver she made. But in her case, I guessed this was probably nothing compared to dissecting a human cadaver in anatomy class.

She took one of her medical gloves off and carefully placed her palm on the body, presumably checking the temperature, put on the glove back, and then inspected both arms and legs, moving them in sort of motions.

My brain just wouldn't stop thinking at the moment. Question after question kept popping out, and in contrast of my emotionless show-off, actually I was a bundle of nerves.

Jack was dead. Murdered. If Rod really had killed Jack, my theory about Jack cooperating with Rod to find my location and finish me off might be proven wrong. Surely Rod would earn the profit money from the illegal drug trafficking done by Jack, since that meant he wouldn't have to give Jack his share, but I knew that wasn't the case. There's got to be another reason.

The question was… _what?_

While Valerie continued doing her job, I scanned the whole room and something caught my eyes. Except the cell phone lying next to Jack's body position, the only thing in this room was a brown suitcase, left forgotten on the floor near the corner. Had to be Jack's. I decided to have a look since it might give a clue.

I pulled myself to my feet and crossed the room to where the suitcase abode. I took it and opened the hood, looking inside, hoping to find something in particular...

Nothing. The suitcase was empty.

I rummaged through every pocket, but there was nothing I could find. The suitcase didn't even include any single cloth. Weird. There's no fucking way Jack came to New York bringing an empty suitcase. _Unless..._

An idea struck my head. If I was correct, that meant Jack didn't plan to stay in New York for a long time. Maybe Jack had wanted to show me something; anything that was once stored inside the suitcase and more likely had been dismissed by the Mafia, and that's why he had intended to see me in person. But what?

"Mello," came Valerie's hitched voice, "can you give me a hand?"

I turned around and took a glimpse at the girl who was at the moment apparently struggling to flip the corpse's body. I hurried and knelt down next to her, helped pushing Jack's body so now it lay onto his stomach. She took off Jack's jacket and moved the shirt upward, revealing the back of the body, as she inspected the exposed skin.

"Hey," I quickly said, not intending to waste any second, "I find something."

Valerie yanked the shirt down and finally turned to me. Her hazel eyes stared right into mine, and I could tell from the way they looked she also got something in particular.

"I think I also find something here," she said. "But you go first."

"No, you first," I said, and I watched her face turned into a bemused look. "Ladies first?" I simply shrugged. The corner of her lips slightly curled upward at my lame little humor, but disappeared right before she uttered her next words.

"Well," Valerie began, "The body temperature is low and the whole body is already stiffened. There are purplish marks over the lower body parts−of course, caused by gravitation pulling the blood after the heart stopped pumping. I also checked the eyes and there's a thin cloudy film developed over each one," she explained. She spoke really fast that I almost had a difficult time processing every word. I got the feeling that she was getting… rather enthusiastic?

Valerie only took a brief pause to catch her breath before continuing, "I may not be able to give exact precision, but from what we got here, I'd say Jack has been dead for three hours or more."

 _Three hours or more?_ I quickly snatched my cell phone open and checked the time: _2:02PM._ I checked the time Jack called me. _9:53AM._

"He's been dead at least three to four hours," I declared. "He was alive at 10 this morning when he called me."

"That one about paying you a visit?"

"Yeah."

Valerie mused on it for a while. "Then he was shot right after he gave you the call... but what does it mean?"

"Now it's my turn," I said, climbing to my feet, "to show you what I got."

* * *

Meanwhile outside of the building, Matt was sitting behind the wheel in his red Camaro, buying some time while waiting for his two companions as his gloved nimble thumbs dancing rapidly over the buttons on his game console. His twinkling green eyes, well hidden beneath the orange-tinted goggles, were locked at the screen in full concentration. His mouth mumbling several words among the sounds emitted from the console.

"... Oh yeah—take that... Ok... How about th—ouch, no fucking way, dude... you're gonna pay for—HA! Double combo! Serves you right... Come on, man, kick his ass—YES, that's right... Come one, man, one more, come o—ARGH!"

The console let out a long beeping sound, signaling the drained battery as the pixelated image shut down, thus ending the game as the screen turned black and the glass surface reflecting his upset face.

"Damn!" Matt cursed, tossing the console nonchalantly to the back seat with a soft thud. The goggled redhead growled and slumped deeper over his seat, hissing grudgingly. "Fuck... I haven't even saved the last round! Oh holy motherfucking battery I'm grateful to you, now I shall be bored to death..."

Attempting to calm himself, Matt drew a cigarette from his cigarette box and started exhaling the smoke. He needed nicotin otherwise he would go crazy due to boredom, even more with his one and only game console ran out of battery at the most crucial time and he didn't bring the charger or additional battery packs. A big, hairy, terrible, tremendous mistake.

Blowing the thin smoke to the air, he sighed heavily."Geez, what's taking them so long?" he wondered. His two companions, Mello and Valerie, had left for more than fifteen minutes as he could remember, and the thought only bode to him sulking inwards since he had to wait down here and do nothing but stayed on guard.

The boredom only came to an end when Matt averted his gaze toward the wild shrubberies growing in the front of the building. He squinted his eyes, trying to get a better sight on whatever catching his attention.

 _There's something among the leaves_.

Curious, and pleased enough to find a distraction, he stepped out of the car and approached the thing. When it was right under his nose, Matt's eyes widened below the tinted glasses with recognition.

"Isn't it...?"

* * *

 **Valerie**

I studied the suitcase Mello showed me. As what he mentioned, there's nothing inside, resulting to the conclusion that whatever had been stored there, it had been disposed by the Mafia. "But _what?_ " I furrowed my brows, trying to figure out a possible answer.

"Something related with me, for sure," Mello growled as he took a chocolate bar from his pocket and unwrapped it, biting a large chunk with a loud snap. "I've no idea what though."

Before I could think of a reply, Mello's cell phone rang and he answered at the first ring. "What, Matt—"

"MELLO, GET OUT OF THERE RIGHT NOW!"

Matt's voice screeching out of the phone, making Mello instantly removed the cell phone from his ear at the earsplitting decibel voice. Matt sounded excruciatingly in panic. Mello gave me a brief confused look before talking back to the line, "Matt, calm down! What happened?"

"EXPLANATION LATER, GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE RIGHT N—"

"Matt! Just fucking tell me!"

"TIME BOMBS, MELLO!" I could hear Matt's howling voice. "FOUR. FUCKING. TIME BOMBS. GET OUT. NOW." With that Matt ended the call.

Panic and fear began creeping alongside my whole body as I turned to Mello. " _Bombs?_ " I repeated in disbelief, but a loud erupted sound downstairs made me nearly jumped out of my skin and I screamed. That must be the first bomb. Shit, now what?

"Fuck." Mello roughly grabbed my wrist and dragged both of us out of the room down the stairs, similar to what he did back in the apartment, but only this time it was a whole different situation. We were in a building with four bombs, _for God's sake!_

A second later the second explosion erupted and we were forced to stop midway; a large part of the ceilings and the walls caved into big stony ruins, marching within thunderous thumps to the ground, casting thick dust over the air as well as the visible gold and red strikes of the enraging, ruling fire. Mello and I coughing loudly, feeling the smoke suffocated our chests.

I almost believed that I might have undergone cardiac arrest. I wasn't able to think; my brain wouldn't be cooperating with me anymore. Now that the stairs had been demolished in major parts, there's no way for Mello and I escaping by taking the stairs.

My body grew limp, my eyes watching in despair as the fire started creeping out on the ruins. _What are we gonna do now?_

More feral tumultuous sounds emitted close by. "Fuck!" Mello swore loudly, his eyes rolling desperately in their sockets, sweeping over the floor we were in as if seeking for something. Out of the blue he pulled me to the nearest door on the corner of the room and broke it down with only one kick. I looked beyond the threshold; turned out it led to a fire escape. I looked at Mello and he did the same, and I knew we had the same idea. "Follow me." Mello jerked his head toward the fire escape before climbing down as fast as he could, and I needed not to be told twice to hurry up behind him.

Outdoor air greeted us as we rushed down the fire escape as fast as our legs brought us. Sweat pouring down all over my body like rain but I couldn't even care less. I sensed the air around me getting hotter each second; the fire was spreading fast and I knew we didn't have much time left.

But when we were only halfway down, a big burning block fell down without warning, almost hitting my skull off if only I didn't retaliate just in time, and in impulse I began to rant trails of numerous cursing in my native language. For a second there I could only stand still, my body tense, one hand firmly gripped onto the railing, one hand clutching to my chest as I tried to breathe in and out, while watching in distraught as the burning block rolling down the stairs before stopping at the corner, destroying the railing near it and completely blocking my way.

* * *

 **Mello**

The recent thundering noise from above stopped me dead on my track. I turned around and realized Valerie wasn't anywhere near me. Only when I heard her voice from the stairs above I found her. "What was that?!" I called out.

My voice apparently caught her attention and she peered through the railing, looking straight at me. She opened her mouth but nothing came out; but as soon as I noticed the blazing fire from the burning block in front of her I realized what happened, immediately followed by my loudest swearings. _Now what?_

I looked back and forth, trying to think fast, what to do to get her out of there, before my eyes settling back at the height distance between my position and hers. It wasn't too high. I had an idea.

"Hey!" I called, "do you think you can climb down here?"

"Climb down?!" Valerie looked down, seemingly considering the height, before looking back at me. "No, I−I don't think so!"

"Hold tight to those railing and bring your body down! I'll catch you!"

" _What?!_ " Her eyes bulged out at my words. "NO WAY!" she bellowed, "I know this is your trick to get rid of me!"

I groaned and running my gloved fingers exasperatedly to my hair. Ok, I knew there was a risk here, but under this situation did she really think I was tricking her? "Listen, I understand if you don't trust me, but look around you!" I hollered back. "You think you have better options here?!"

"I'm not an idiot," she hissed. "If I do that, you'll take it as a chance to escape on your own!"

"If you're not an idiot, then you should know better than that!"

"You're just going to let me die down there!"

"Unless you're eager enough to die, missy, _I'M NOT!_ " I snapped, my voice raucous in desperation. I had to make her believe me. "Do you want to die or not?!"

* * *

 **Valerie**

I glared daggers at him before sweeping my eyes back at the height between us. Mello looked deadly serious. But remind me again _who_ he was? _How_ he had been treating me? _What_ situation he had gotten me into? Even amidst this chaos and confusion and frustration, I knew the consequences. He could've manipulated me to take such risk so that I'd meet my end here, to his advantage since it would mean one burden down. But the fire in front of me only spread wider, almost reaching the spot where I stood, and I knew I had to decide.

 _I must be out of my mind_.

Gripping tightly on what's left of the railing, I swung one of my legs to the other side as careful as possible. I looked down to Mello to see he had readied himself to catch me. I brought my other leg over the railing and tighten my grip once both of my legs were now hanging in the air. "You ready?!" I called out.

"Yeah. Now let it go!"

I gulped. I could almost swear my heart was going to jump out of my chest. "You sure this is gonna work out?!"

" _Just let it go, dammit!_ "

That's it. I squeezed my eyes shut, and after taking a deep, deep breath, I let go of the railing.

It happened so fast.

First I felt falling down in acceleration, the wind rushing upwards in a swift motion, followed by a hard bump into something soft yet firm, and the next thing I knew I found myself staring right into two bewildered blue eyes.

"You ok?"

I nodded after a momentary pause, still panting in heavy breaths and shaking uncontrollably, not being able to come up with verbal response. Mello acknowledged this and put me down. I hurriedly reached the nearest wall to support myself. _I'm alive_ ,I couldn't believe it. _I'm alive. I'm actually alive._

"If you can walk already, let's move. We don't have time."

"Yeah, yeah−just… just give me a sec here−"

My words were cut off with a grumbling noise from above and Mello and I looked up. To my horror, the burning block from before somehow had rolled over from the corner and falling down to our position in great speed. Mello harshly pulled me aside just in time before the burning block fell down in a loud clanking sound and continued to rolling over the lower stairs to the ground. Trail of blazing fire emerged on every area the wood had contact with, and so once again we both were trapped.

" _What the fuck?!_ " Mello roared. I was staring down at the fire surrounding us, my eyes were as wide as plates they almost jumped out from their sockets. My shoulders slumped down. I couldn't say a word. So this was it? After all of this shit, we're going to die here? _I_ was going to die here, in a building full of fire, with the company of a criminal?

"… hey! Hey! Listen to me!"

I quickly snapped out of my trance and looked over to Mello. "What?" I asked, already feeling pessimistic and helpless.

He rolled his eyes and barked a scoff. "The height range between here and the ground isn't too great−we can still make it out," he asserted. His lips forming a thin line. "But we need to jump."

"Jump?!" I shrieked. I gazed down at the distance between where we stood and the ground before looking back at Mello. "Easy for you to say, but I'm NOT jumping off a place _10 foot_ above the ground!"

"I never say you're doing it on your own." And before I could reply, Mello had already scooped my entire body and held me tight within his arms, ignoring my protest as he scooted over to the edge where most of the railing were already destroyed. I wildly clawed my nails onto his jacket in reflex.

"Wait−what do you think you're doing?" I glared at him in utmost horror. Then a thought came across my mind and the anger I struggling to suppress resurfaced back. "I knew it−you're going to _throw me off_ , aren't you?!"

"HUH?!" Mello turned to meet my eyes, looking genuinely offended. "I'm trying to save both of our asses here! Have some decency, would you?!"

"I don't care, you bloody monster! Put me down right now!" I started to slap and punch and kick him everywhere I could reach. Mello tried to dodge them all, not much of a success while he's struggling to keep me still.

"Don't tempt me to actually throw you off," he growled in a threatening tone. "Unless you wanna get us both killed, _stay still_."

"MELLO! Put me down or—"

But before I could finish my sentence, he had taken his position, and a split second later, precisely when the final explosion blew up, we jumped.

* * *

 _*GSW =_ _ **G**_ _un_ _ **s**_ _hot_ _ **W**_ _ound_

* * *

 **A/N:** I love putting them into lots of troubles. MUAHAHA.

Anyway, Merry-Late-Christmas and Happy New Year to everyone! (it's New Year already in Indonesia :))) Actually I planned to update on Christmas but I've been away on a holiday trip with my family and didn't bring my laptop with me, so I decided to update right on time with the first day of 2016 (woohoo!) I had a blast writing this chapter, so I hope you guys enjoy it as well! Consider this as my late Christmas/New Year gift to all of you dear readers/reviewers/favoriters/followers :*

I'm sorry I can't reply each of your review personally at this time, but no worries, I will soon. As usual, do not hesitate to let me know what you think of this chapter. Enjoy your holiday! Happy New Year!

* * *

 _ **Coming up next...**_

 _"... he didn't mean to harm anybody. He only did what he had to do under minimal options."_

 _"Yes, including threatening to_ kill _me."_

* * *

 _"She was terrified. And we both know we're the reason, and that we have to fix it."_

 _"Then you fix it, genius. I'm done."_

 _Matt rolled his eyes and folded his arms. "Can't you just at least be nicer to her, for_ one _fucking time?"_


	10. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Death Note or any of the characters except for the OCs.

* * *

 **CHAPTER 9**

 **New York, November 19, 2011, 04:33PM**

 **Valerie**

"Feelin' better?"

I looked up from my bottled water to see Matt's walking towards me. I was sitting inside his parked car with the door open. "A little." I gave a tiny nod.

"Here, I bought some more. There are some ice packs as well."

He handed me a plastic bag of several bottled waters and ice packs, which I accepted. "Thanks. That's very kind of you."

"Well, with all that's happening today, you'll need those," he grinned as he took one of the bottles and opened the cap, drinking the water while leaning unto the car. "Good thing we found this place. It's quiet and nice to cool our heads off. And only steps away from the convenience store, to my liking."

I took out one of the ice packs and held it against the sleeve over my bruised arm, letting out a sigh of relief when the coolness came in contact. My thoughts wandered off to the last few hours of my life.

After our last incident with the bombed-out building, we drove through the alleys until we finally found a quiet park in a neighborhood area and decided to stop there for a while. That was very relieving, at least for me, considering I had had more than only one incident today, and I really, really, _really_ needed a place to just compose myself and breathe.

That time when Mello and I jumped off the fire escape, I really thought I was going to die; either because of the bombs or the height. I was shutting my eyes tight the whole process and there was a very loud crash and shake when we landed. Every inch of my body−my head, my neck, my shoulders, arms, and legs were all sore, but despite that, I didn't feel like I'm landing on a hard surface. Then I heard a groan and I finally had the courage to open my eyes.

To my surprise, I found that I'd landed on Mello's body, on top of Matt's car. Apparently, from what Matt had told me, he was looking for us when he heard our banter on the fire escape, and rushed to the scene at once with his car just in time Mello and I jumped off. If he came only one second late… I shivered on imagining the possible outcome. I knew, I had a hard time believing that myself. Either it was all total luck or we were actually given a second chance to continue with our lives.

As if that wasn't unbelievably surprising enough, Mello had used his body to prevent me from direct contact to the car's surface, even though my body weight that came in contact with his burns eventually making him groaning in pain, and I got off him as quick as I could in a moment of panic. That time I didn't have the chance to inspect whether or not he had other injuries, as he stepped to the ground as soon as I got off, ordered me to sit inside the car, ignoring Matt's bombarding questions, jumping to his bike, and led us away from the site until we found the park.

"By the way, where's Mello?" I asked the goggled redhead. Mello's bike was parked not far from Matt's car, but as far as I could see, I didn't see the ex-Mafioso anywhere.

Matt finished his last gulp of his water. "Knowing him, he might be somewhere on this park, alone, digging on his chocolates, and scaring the hell out of every bystander nearby with those evil eyes," he sneered mockingly and shrugged. "As always."

That actually made me chuckled. "Always a grump, isn't he."

"24/7, I assure you. Worse since he got the burns. Way worse since he knew about the fake drug." Matt crumpled the empty plastic bottle and threw it nonchalantly to a random direction. He shoved his hands into his vest pockets and gazed down. "Truth to be told, I think I've never seen him this... outraged," he said solemnly, lowering his voice.

I gazed down at the icepack in my hand. "I'm wondering if he's alright... That jump could've hurt anyone," I said quietly. That was rather a brash decision that he had taken. I was genuinely concerned about his condition, for real this time, and I would've lied to myself if I said I didn't feel grateful that he actually saved me in some sort of way. I had to admit: Mello was one tough man.

"Anyone, yes, but not Mello. That buddy of mine has done lots of more dangerous stunts than that." Matt turned his gaze to me. "Moreover, are _you_ alright?"

I took a pause for several seconds at his question. _Am I alright?_ I didn't know the answer myself. Today had been seven hells for me and in that case, I knew I wasn't alright. And I knew that Matt knew that perfectly. While it's true that I didn't suffer serious injuries, I did have a minor bump to the head plus bruises here and there even though they were nothing serious, and the icepack had helped ease the pain quite a bit.

I absolutely didn't want to be whiny here, but I decided to mask the truth anyway. "I don't know," I finally confessed as I shifted my sitting position, now facing outside of the door. "Today has been… too much."

Matt gave me a sympathetic smile. "Can't blame you, Val." He took a deep breath and let out a heavy sigh. "I understand that this isn't what you expect earlier today... and I wasn't either. And for that, I'm really, really sorry. I hope you can forgive me for bringing you into this mess." I looked up and saw Matt looking straight at me. "But if you can't, I completely understand," he continued.

Behind the tinted goggles, I was quite convinced he did look sorry. True, if it wasn't for him asking me to examine Mello this morning, I wouldn't have thrown myself into this mess. No, mess was an understatement— _chaos_ was the right word. I knew I had every right to put the blame on him.

But as I had composed myself back, looking back, I actually had the option to back off. Matt didn't exactly force me to examine his friend, but I did him a favor nonetheless. So even though I didn't like it, I had to admit the responsibility was on both of us.

I finally let out a long sigh. "You asked me a favor, and I decided to do it. It's both on us." I stared right into his eyes and gave my best attempt to smile. "Besides, you've been kind to me since the beginning. So... apology accepted, I guess."

I saw that Matt's expression turned into a relief. "I can't thank you enough."

"Apology accepted, for now."

The smile on his head faltered and he glanced away. "Sure, I understand… And I hope you can forgive Mello as well. I know his actions are... questionable and unacceptable, but I want you to understand that he didn't mean to harm anybody. He only did what he had to do under minimal options."

My smile vanished in an instant. "Yes, including threatening to _kill_ me," I retorted, emphasizing the word.

Matt looked uneasy, like he was also uncomfortable with that fact. "I know. I said his actions are unacceptable," he cringed, "but mostly it's because he prefers to stay on guard all the time. You know, that time when you're inspecting the Vicodin, Mello scolded me over bringing over a stranger. He doesn't want to involve any other people into his business because he knows it's dangerous for both parties. Please trust me, Val."

I mused on his words. I had a hard time believing what Matt said, considering how both of them were total strangers and what I'd been through around Mello. For heaven's sake, that man had pointed his gun at me for many times as I could remember and I couldn't really say that his actions or words had been friendly either. Still, Mello had actually _saved_ me from the condemned building in fire.

"Look, I know you're just looking out for your friend, Matt," I replied after a while, "But I need to hear that from Mello himself. Only then I'll... I'll think about it."

Matt nodded. "Okay. I promise I'll make sure Mello talks this through with you— _ah_ , and here comes our guest of honor."

I turned around and saw Mello emerging from around the corner, walking to our direction and stopped few feet away. His gloved hands were stuffed deep into his jacket pockets and he wore the same bitter expression. From what I saw, other than his burns he didn't have any visible injuries from the earlier incident. I couldn't be so sure since he was covered up with his jacket and I couldn't really inspect him clearly from here. But the way he walked told me that there might be something wrong with one of his legs.

"Hey, man," Matt greeted the blond ex-Mafioso casually with a wide smile. "So, how many people have you mentally terrorized this afternoon?"

Mello chose to ignore the last remark. "We need to talk," he spoke tersely and beckoned Matt to follow him before retreating a few steps further, limping as he moved.

Matt straightened up and turned to me. "Ok, wait here, Val," he told me. "And please, for your own sake, do not attempt in running away. Mello won't be pleased."

I shrugged half-heartedly. "One unarmed girl and two armed men? I learned my lesson."

His expression had guilt written all over. "I'll talk some sense to Mello, I promise," he stated. "Oh, and if you're cold, there's a blanket back there, feel free to use it. I'll close the door if that's ok with you?"

I gave a weak nod, before Matt closed the door and walked away, leaving me brooding in silence, alone inside the car.

* * *

 **Mello**

I wasn't gonna lie. Today had been one fucking long day. And the last incident with the bombs didn't make in any better.

That bold decision to jump off the fire escape that I took didn't really bother me. Really. Back when I was still a fully-fledged member of the Mafia, I had encountered worse situations than that. Entering dangerous enemies' basecamps? Check. Running away and dodging bullets at the same time? Check. Escaping from a building full of explosives? Hello, see these burns?

But escaping from a dangerous situation and acting _heroic_ at the same time? Well, _that_ was new.

Almost all my life in the Mafia, I had taken part in dangerous encounters mostly in the company of my men, if wasn't alone. And they, though being the fucking wimps they were, were still Mafia members and were trained to act quickly depending on the situation. If one went down, the others wouldn't act like some Good Samaritans and helped the said person. They would've left him to meet his end and retreated as quickly as they could, saving themselves—well, unless you're one with an important position, that would be a different case.

Yeah, that's how rotten they were. That's why said I couldn't trust any of them in exception for the late Don and my so-called-loyal underling Jack, who ended up being the same fucking scum like the others.

So when I dragged Valerie with me that time, I only did it by instinct. I just knew that I couldn't just leave her to her doom in that building—I didn't want another victim under my watch. That brain of hers and the intellect she possessed could definitely be put to a good use, as once again her act had helped clarified the mystery surrounding Jack's death and might've clarified some other things related.

Hell, I even shielded her from direct contact to Matt's car with my own body and look what it had cost me? Intense pain from my own healing burns, multiple bruises and cuts over my right arm and my right side that might need stitches, which I had only came to know when I took a look at them half an hour ago. I surprised myself that I didn't break my ribs, but I might have a bump on the back of my head that left stinging sensation for minutes now, and sprained my right ankle though it was nothing severe.

Moral of the story? Never again I'd play hero.

I saw Matt crossed the space between me and his car and stopped right next to me. He patted my shoulder. "Hey, you ok?" he asked quietly.

"I'm ok," I lied through gritted teeth. Matt didn't look so convinced. Dear God, sometimes I hated the fact that he always knew whenever I didn't tell him the truth.

I gave a snort. "Cuts all over my right side. Nothing I can't take."

Matt didn't give any response and I knew he waited for me to say more. "Fine, and a bump on the head." Still no response. I clicked my tongue in annoyance. "And I sprained my ankle—geez, for fuck's sake, Matt, do you really have to make me spit it all out to your face?"

He let out a long laugh as a response and only struggling to stop when I threw him a glare. "Sorry, that was hilarious," he said between his laughter. "You can always tell me everything, Mels; you know that. So, let's get you cleaned up in the hospital."

"No," I quickly replied. Treating my injuries could be done later; it wasn't something I couldn't deal with. Besides, like I said earlier, I'd be more likely intimidating the nurses and the doctors at the clinic. There were more important matters as for now.

"You sure? You really have to take care of your injuries as soon as possible, y'know?"

"I _will_ , ok? So quit bickering NOW."

"Fineeee. What do you wanna talk about?"

"Let's start with how you found out about the time bombs."

Matt's easy-going attitude faded and turned serious in an instant. That's one of the things I liked about Matt—he knew when he needed to be serious despite that cocky nonchalant nature of his. "I found the first one behind one of the shrubberies outside," he muttered, his expression grim. "I was waiting for you and Val outside the car when I noticed something on the shrubberies. Turns out to be one. I quickly inspect the surrounding areas and when I found three more outside, I called you right away."

I folded my arms, staring at the ground while letting the information sink in. "I see."

"And by the way, what took you both so long? Did you find Jack?"

"We did." I bit my lower lip. "But he's already dead."

I watched as Matt's jaw dropped and his eyes grew wide as plates. " _Dead?_ But… how? Why?"

I told him everything that happened, not leaving any single detail.

After I finished, Matt placed his fingers on his chin, eyebrows furrowed. "So let me get this straight: Jack might've come to New York in secret and called you to give you something inside the suitcase. But without him knowing, Rod had followed him and finished him right after he made that call, before tracking it down to my apartment, and that's how the Mafia found you?"

"It's the most logical explanation," I cringed in disgust. "I have no idea what he wanted to give me though. The suitcase is empty. At best, maybe it was only a fucking set up arranged by that big rat by using Jack to lure me into his hand. Maybe Jack didn't have anything inside the suitcase from the start."

"Well, I wouldn't be that sure," Matt stated, making me raised an eyebrow. He reached into his vest pocket and pulled out something he then handed to me. "When I was searching the area, I found this."

I looked down at the thing in my hand. It was a small plastic bottle, and there were familiar white pills inside. I brought the bottle closer to my face, and my eyes narrowed.

" _Vicodin?_ " This was the last thing I expected.

"Yup."

"But why would Jack…?"

Matt stayed quiet for several seconds. "The best explanation I came into, after listening to your story, is that Jack came to New York in secret without the Mafia knowing," he uttered slowly, sounding astonished as well. He then looked up to meet my eyes. "Maybe… the Mafia did make him send you the heroin, assuming you'd be addicted and become too weak to face them, but then maybe Jack decided he wouldn't go on with their plan anymore and planned to give you the legit Vicodin. But Rod found out and… we know the rest."

I didn't say a word at Matt's theory. That was a probability, but was that the _real_ story? "How can you be sure that this isn't the same heroin?" I taunted.

"I said _maybe_ , I'm not entirely sure either," Matt replied and placing his hands on his hips. "But then I remember what Valerie did back at the apartment, so I took out one pill and threw it to the ground, and it doesn't get smashed like before. Then I picked it up and tried to snap it with my hands. Quite a handful, but when I did, I saw the content is in the same white color. Solid, not powder. Here."

Matt handed me the broken pill that he initially kept inside his other vest pocket. I secured the half part of the pill between my fingers and inspected it from all angles. Matt's right; it definitely looked different from the Vicodin in the apartment.

I handed both the pill and the bottle back to him. "It does look legit."

"Told you," Matt stored them back into his pockets. "Well, I know we couldn't be sure but still, turns out we could learn one or two things from her."

I shoved my hands back into my jacket pockets and cast a glance toward Matt's Camaro. From what I saw through the front window, Valerie was sitting still inside. "Alright, she's smart, I take it," I said under my breath.

"And quite a brave young lady," Matt added as he followed my gaze. "From what you told me, it's quite amazing how she handled a bloody corpse and taking such risk at the fire escape."

"Heh. Perhaps a bloody corpse is nothing than a cadaver's innards to her. And at the fire escape she obeyed only after yelling at me all the time." I rolled my eyes back at my companion. "What's amazing is how she managed to put up with _us_ after all this shit."

Matt didn't give any response and stayed quiet, but I knew he agreed with me. At first, I would expect Valerie wouldn't last a second after the first shot back in the apartment. As I noted from the start, she looked like an ordinary vulnerable girl. Even in the midst of us escaping from Rod and his men, I spotted her crying without her knowing. But _boy_ , who could've known that she could be such a handful when she lost her temper at the most unfortunate moment.

But so far, intentionally or unintentionally, she had helped clearing out one or two things that had been bugging me. After all I still owed her an apology. And gratitude.

"Speaking of Valerie," Matt's voice turned my attention away, and I found him looking at me right in the eyes, "don't you have something to say to her?"

I mentally groaned. Why Matt must had the ability to read my thoughts whenever he wanted and fucking pointed that out right to my face? "I'll apologize," I retorted impatiently in response. "Later."

"Not later— _now_. We finally have the time to rest and she's calmed down. What else are you waiting for?"

"Exactly—she's _calmed down_. What if I speak to her now and things getting out of hand again?"

"That would depend on how you'd behave in front of her."

"So? I tried to help her back there and she called me a _bloody monster_."

"She was terrified. And we both know we're the reason, and that we have to fix it."

"Then you fix it, genius. I'm done."

Matt rolled his eyes and folded his arms. "Can't you just at least be nicer to her, for _one_ fucking time?" He cocked his head. "Hell, after all that shit we've been through I really need a smoke, but did I do that when I was with her a while ago? _No_ , since I suspect cigarette smoke is the least favorite thing on her list. Which, by the way—" Matt reached over his back pockets and pulled out a cigarette pack and a lighter, "I can no longer hold back by now," he said hastily while taking out one of the cigarettes, lit it, and started smoking."Ahhh, finally…"

I wrinkled my nose. "Have you forgotten that _I_ hate that as well?"

He replied with a nonchalant wave. "You've endured that for a long time since you know me, so don't start complaining. Now go."

Exhaling exasperatedly (and cursing Matt inwards for scolding me like I was some brat, I had to return him the favor later), I spun at my heels and slowly approaching the car. Pain shot through my right leg every time I put weight in my foot. I really had to take care of it while I could still walk.

When I was only two steps away, she seemingly noticed and turned her gaze to my direction. I stopped right in front of the door and knocked the window, waiting for a few seconds before the door opened just so slightly. I found myself staring face to face with her, and from a close inspection, I didn't miss the alertness showing on her eyes as I saw her grip on the blanket covering her body tightened.

I supposed she wasn't all comfortable with my presence but I was really not in the mood of pushing her anymore right now. Enough trouble for today.

So instead of doing the conversation on the spot, I chose to walk over my bike and sat down on the seat, careful enough not to give my leg more pressure than it could endure. There was at least a safe distance between me and the girl. Valerie's eyes followed my every movement in vigilance.

For a while then, there was only a moment of silence. Nobody said a word. And as fucking troublesome as it was, apologizing to someone wasn't something easily done, for me. But in this situation, I knew I _had_ to. I promised myself to give her a proper apologize and I would.

Still, it felt… weird. Especially to a person you had only known for less than half a day but who was with you through every shit on the same day. And as a bonus, called you a monster on the same day.

I took a deep breath.

"You—"

"Are—"

I stopped. Valerie blinked. In a completely different situation this would've been hilarious. "You first," she eventually said awkwardly.

"Ladies first."

"Thanks, but… you go first." She then pushed the door open just a bit wider.

I grunted mentally. _For God's sake, Mello, get it over with._ As I was battling with my inner thoughts on what proper words I should use, Valerie eyed me silently, waiting for me to speak up.

 _Fuck it._

When I finally opened my mouth, instead of a proper apologize I came out with,

"For a French girl, you sure lack the elegance, don't you?"

* * *

 **A/N:** I know a perfect New Year gift for Mello: a book called "Apologizing for Dummies".

Just me rambling here: I've been noticing that the numbers of the reviews have gone up since the last chapter, but for some reason I can't see the newest reviews. I found out that it also happens to everyone, and that apparently it's a glitch that spreads over the site and has happened several times before. But from what I got after browsing through the forum, usually the admins fix it just in a couple of days, while it's been four days as for now. I just hope they will fix the issue ASAP.

 **EDIT 1/6/2016:** Reviews come back to life! Woohoo! I really love your enthusiasm, you guys are awesome!

* * *

 _ **Coming** **up next...**_

 _Did she just fucking tell me to shut up?_


	11. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Death Note or any of the characters except for the OCs.

* * *

 **CHAPTER 10**

 **Valerie**

I looked at Mello, pop-eyed, slack-jawed, unable to react. It took me five full seconds to process his earlier words.

"What?" My breath was hitched in my throat.

Mello raised an eyebrow. "I said, for a French girl, you sure lack the elegance," he repeated, keeping his face straight, never breaking eye contact. "I know you hear me the first time."

I did hear him the first time. I just stopped listening right after the 'French girl' part. Wait a sec here, just why... how...

" _How did you know that?_ " I narrowed my eyes in suspicion. Instinctively I scooted away on my seat.

I swore that Mello looked as if he's enjoying this–making me uncomfortable before his eyes. "The lack of the elegance?" he asked back, almost mockingly. "For starters, it's not every day I got punched and kicked by a girl... or earning the nickname _bloody monster_ from the same girl, that is."

I felt my face getting hotter with embarrassment at the way he purposefully pointed out my emotional outburst back at the fire escape. I saw the corners of his lips slightly curled upward into a satisfied smirk and I scowled at him. I took a deep breath and trying to regain my composure. "Not that," I responded eventually, my tone crisp. "I'm asking how you know my nationality."

That smirk never faded. "You had quite a moment at the first burning block incident."

Staring at him in confusion, I tried to dig my memory but no result. Alright, that bloody monster part was one thing, but how the hell I was supposed to remember every single detail around me in the middle of that chaos? And apparently Mello saw through this.

"I think you said something among... _'putain de bordel de merde_ (1) _'._ "

He spoke again, citing the phrase flawlessly, and now I thought I remembered. I was ranting the same sentence at the moment that damn burning block almost hitting my skull off. _He heard that?_ And he actually knew the meaning. _Dear God, can't I just disappear right here and right now?_

" _Tu es français?_ (2)" I asked him.

" _Non_ (3)," he replied. "But I know a word or two. You're not the only one well-educated here."

 _The curse words, you mean..._ Great, now I knew I couldn't secretly talk bad in my native language behind his back. Especially if _he_ was the subject I'd most likely talk bad of.

I pursed my lips. "Sorry about that."

He was quiet briefly. "Everybody swears."

"No, that's not what I–" _Is he doing this purposefully?_ "Ok, that too, but I mean... I'm sorry for punching and kicking you before," I muttered uneasily. "And for calling you that. I didn't mean to."

"Well, you seemed quite eager back there."

 _He is doing this purposefully_. I released a long sigh. "I was in panic, ok? Anyone would do the same."

"Hmm. I doubt that," Mello shifted his right leg, hissing as he did so, "but I understand. In fact, enough chit-chats. I came to talk about something else."

I stayed quiet, waiting for him to continue in anticipation. Was he going to let me go, finally? Now that the man named Jack's dead, he would no longer need me, right? Or was he planning to make a deal before letting me go? He said he came to talk, so... he wouldn't just shoot me dead here and now, right?

I gulped nervously. My fingers pulled the blanket tighter around my body. _Right?_

Mello rested his elbows on his thighs, casting his eyes at the ground below and not saying any word for a moment. Finally he looked up, his piercing blue eyes stared right into mine. The earlier smirk had vanished. And for the first time since I first saw him, I didn't think of him as scary. There, Mello actually looked... human.

"I mean to say... I'm sorry."

* * *

 **Mello**

The look on Valerie's face was... I didn't even know how to describe how it was. One thing for sure though: she didn't expect that.

Apologizing was already hard enough for me. You saw how I was beating around the bush earlier? Don't think I wasn't aware of how I had successfully irked the girl–in fact, that was partially intentional. I preferred to refer to it as breaking the ice. Hey, it was already awkward enough for me and wouldn't have it been more awkward to both of us if I sat before her eyes and blurted out of nothing, 'Heya, sorry for all this shit, you forgive me, right? Are we cool? Ok, we're cool. So long, farewell, _auf wiedersehen_ (4), good night'. No fucking way.

Besides, she did punch me and kick me and call me a bloody monster. I could take any other kind of insult without batting an eye, really: asshole, jerkass, scum, douchebag, son of a bitch; whatever, name it. But _monster?_ When I was risking my own ass to save her ass up there?

I had already felt like a monster due to these hideous burns, yet she chose to say it upfront to my face. Fine, she was terrified at that moment, I got that, and I had said I didn't want to push her anymore for the rest of the day. Still, I felt like I should give her a piece of my mind even in the most subtle way possible. Sorry not sorry, old habit.

I didn't expect Valerie to apologize right away, though. That's why I had said it was partially intentional. But thanks to that, it actually made it easier to move the topic back to what I had firstly intended to say to her.

Valerie still didn't say anything and I could see she was silently waiting for me to say more. Swallowing my pride, I continued, "I know today's been full of shit," I began slowly, trying to keep my tone even and made sure she listened to every word, "I know _I_ have been treating you like shit, and you don't deserve any of that."

I paused there, not sure of what more to tell her. But I observed Valerie's posture gradually changed; she seemed slightly less tense than before. And she's paying full intention. Things were progressing better than what I had expected earlier, to my relief.

She then opened her mouth, looking as if she wanted to speak, but for whatever reason she chose to refrain from saying anything. I didn't miss that.

"If there's anything you wanna say, just say it," I tried to assure her without sounding too harsh. Not much of a success.

The brunette shook her head. "I'll listen until you finish," she replied.

"It's ok. No need to be afraid."

"I'm not." _She's a bad liar._

"I know you were crying back at the alley."

Valerie seemed appalled by this newfound fact. She looked at me incredulously before her eyes drifted off, clearly upset.

I mentally smacked my head. _Real smooth, Mello._ I shouldn't have said that. Maybe now she thought I was toying with her even though I wasn't. Shit, as if apologizing wasn't difficult enough already. What if she cries again? Told Matt she would freak out if I talked to her. Well excuse me if this sounded lame, I had never dealt with women in this kind of situation before!

"I get that you're scared," I hurriedly said, trying to bring her attention back, "and I fully understand. None of us–Matt or I–knew Rod would come. None of us knew he would kill Jack. What's been happening today, I can assure you I didn't expect any of them either and... I owe you my apologies for getting you involved."

I saw Valerie rolled her eyes back at mine, looking at me in some way as if considering if I was telling the truth. I exhaled wearily, running my palm across my face. "Look, I'm not asking you to forgive me. I just need you to know I'm sorry. Matt's sorry. We're sorry. And maybe it's too late to say this but..." I paused only for a split second, eyeing the metal crucifix hanging over my chest, "... thank you. For cooperating to this far."

She didn't say a word. I didn't expect her to say anything anyway. Thick silence surrounding us in the following seconds as the cold wind blew, leaves rustling on the trees around the area, the breeze caressing my face gently. I figured that she still wouldn't talk, but it didn't matter now. My job here was finished. I knew if I stayed any longer it would only bode to more awkwardness between us.

So I pulled myself back to my feet, and _fuck_ , that's a big mistake; the familiar pain shot right back from my right ankle and I couldn't help but groaned, instantly falling back to the bike seat. In reflex I lifted and rested my right leg against my left thigh, carefully holding the ankle part in my hands.

"Oh my God, are you alright?"

Valerie's voice turned my attention away and I looked up, finding she had snuck her head out of the car, looking at me in concern.

"I'm fine," I hissed through gritted teeth.

It wasn't surprising if she didn't buy that. "Let me see your ankle." She stepped down from the car before I could say anything and hurryingly approached my bike, kneeling below to get a better look.

"It's just a sprain. It's nothing."

She locked her eyes at mine. " _I_ will decide what's nothing and what's not," she declared in a low voice, yet firmly. "Now show me your ankle."

I sighed. _Who am I to argue with a doctor in training?_ I decided to obey and began untying my boot before carefully dismissed it.

* * *

 **Valerie**

At first I had expected a worse injury than a sprain (if I had learned anything today, that would be Mello's tendency to dismiss things that would endanger his life), but it looked like he was telling the truth. His ankle was swollen with a bruise, and from the look of it, there wasn't an open fracture, thank goodness. From how he had managed to walk earlier I would've thought it was a grade one sprain but I started to think it might have been a grade two, if not worse, from looking how he really seemed in pain just a minute ago.

Criminal or not, there wasn't much difference as for now; he had properly apologized to me, and knowing how proud, arrogant man he was, it must have not been easy for him. I certainly wouldn't pretend that knowing he was aware of my mental breakdown at the alley didn't bother me. It fact, I couldn't even described how ashamed I was; what could be more embarrassing that getting caught crying like a baby by your own captor/abductor?

But Mello _knew_. And he didn't make fun of me; not even that time, not even now. He only brought the topic to make a point that he was aware of how terrified I was, and he was sorry for that. You didn't hear about criminals who were sorry for their victims so often.

I knew that I still had to keep my eyes open all the time, though. I still didn't know Mello and Matt that well, and there was still a chance that the whole apologize act was nothing but a part of their schemes. But I decided not to think about that right now; Mello's injury came first. Anyway, I had to act fast.

"Wait a sec," I said and quickly ran back to the car, grabbed a few ice packs, then hurried back to Mello. I was confused for a moment there since there's no way I press the ice pack directly to his swollen skin but there's no towel or cloth as well, only the thin blanket I was currently wrapping around my body. So, as awkward as it was, I settled on draping the tip of the blanket over Mello's ankle before holding the ice pack against it, at the same time standing in front of him while keeping the rest of the blanket wrapped around my body to keep myself warm from the cold air.

"I'll get this," Mello said before taking the ice pack off my hand and held it against the blanket over his ankle. I just let him.

"Fine. Just hold it for 10 to 20 minutes. It will reduce the pain and the swelling," I replied.

He hesitated before decided to speak up afterwards. "Is the blanket necessary?"

"Huh?"

"The blanket. Can't I just apply the ice directly?"

"Oh. You can't apply ice directly on bruises. It will only cause more damage to the tissue or even frost bite."

"Hmm. Ok. Since you seem uncomfortable."

"I'm fine," I quickly retorted, not wanting to admit that he's right. It wasn't standing in the middle of cold weather that really bothered me; it was standing in only _inches away_ from the scarred ex-Mafioso and that condemned gun of his that did.

If Mello enjoyed making me uncomfortable at the very moment just like he did before, this time he hid it well. "I can sit inside the car, if you want."

"Don't. You can't force yourself to walk."

"I do it all the time. It's not my first sprain, you know."

I rolled my eyes. "That is exactly why most people end up having worse injuries than they initially have. Don't get me started on how many people lose their arms and legs just because they ignore any signs of initial injuries before realizing they're wrong and that they should've sought medical treatments sooner and then it's too late and then—"

My rant was cut off by Mello's chuckle. I looked over at him, astonished. Mello had chuckled. He had laughed. Apparently he _could_ laugh. A pure laugh—not just that annoying smirk of his.

But wait—did he just laugh at _me?_

"What's so funny?" I deadpanned.

"You, actually," he said when his laughter had faded out. "You're really paranoid. And Matt told me I'm paranoid. He should've got to know you before he got to know me."

I didn't know what to reply to that. Or if I wanted to reply at all. So I decided to get back to the main topic. "When did you find out about the sprain?"

Mello shrugged indifferently. "When we just came here."

"Why didn't you say it sooner?"

"It wasn't so painful at first."

I sighed and massaged the area between my eyes tiredly. "Fine. Are you injured anywhere else? Any bumps?"

"... On the back of my head, I think."

I walked over to his back to see it by myself. In the process, I secretly admitted that this gesture I did, carefully parting Mello's golden hair to check for the bump, was oddly, awkwardly... intimate, for the lack of the better word. I mentally shook my head to diminish the thought.

"It's bruised but doesn't look like anything major… does it really hurt?"

"A bit, but not badly."

"Ok." I moved back and stopped just before his eyes. "So a sprain and a bump. Anything else?"

Mello's blue eyes stared right at me, as if considering what to respond. After a moment of silence, he gave out a huff. "I have bruises and cuts over my right arm and the right side of my upper body. Nothing serious."

"Like I said, I will decide what's nothing and what's not. Let me see."

He lifted one eyebrow. "You want me to take off my clothes _here_?"

"Not all of them!" _Why didn't they teach me how to handle a patient as difficult as he is in school?_ "Just—jeez, just take off your jacket. Let me have a look on your arm."

Thankfully he didn't make it any more difficult as he complied and slid off his jacket. I immediately took a look on his right arm. He was right about the bruises, but not about the cuts. Some of them actually needed stitches. It confused me to the peak on how Mello had acted like those cuts were really nothing.

* * *

 **Mello**

"Are you even human..." Valerie absent-mindedly mumbled while shaking her head in disbelief.

I cocked an eyebrow at her. "The last time I checked, _someone_ told me that I belong to another species."

I nearly burst out laughing at the sight of her expression; she did look like she wanted to punch me in the face if she could. Been a while since the last time I enjoyed pissing people off to the core. At the end, she chose to brush it off. "You'll need stitches. We have to stop by the hospital."

The moment those words escaped from her mouth, I turned stiff. I backed away, my eyes narrowed. "No," I muttered coldly.

"Why not?"

 _Does she really have to ask?_ "I can't risk getting seen in public."

"Mello, you're injured, and you need medical treatments as soon as possible."

"You're the med student. You do it."

Valerie sighed impatiently. "I am a _student_ , not a _doctor_. I don't have the same level of expertise or tools or license. I'm not even sure how severe your ankle actually is. I can provide you the first aid, but _that's it_ ," she asserted. After that she quickly looked around. "Where's Matt? Oh, there he is—Matt! Come here!"

My eyes travelled away and found Matt running to our direction and stopped just before our eyes. "What's up?" he asked lightly, looking confused for a moment there about the way Valerie stood so close in front of me with the tip of the blanket draped over my ankle, but when he landed his eyes on the cuts over my right arm, his eyes bulged out. " _Holy shit_ —Mello, you never told me your cuts are this bad!"

I simply rolled my eyes. "I've been worse."

"He needs to get to the hospital," Valerie told him. "Not just the cuts, he has a bump on the back of his head, and his ankle needs immediate attention as well."

"I told him to go to the hospital. He insisted he doesn't want to," Matt said, looking serious.

"I _don't need to_ —it'll heal by time," I objected. "Stop making a fuss over all of this, would you?"

She ignored me and turned back to Matt. "I think I know a hospital nearby; I did my pre-med internship there a while ago. I can show you the direction. But first, I'll need to bandage Mello's wounds and ankle."

"Fine with me, but..." Matt looked over at me hesitatingly.

Valerie kept a straight face. "Your friend here needs to learn to take care of himself."

"I can take care of myself, thank you very much," I grunted.

"Oh really?" Valerie looked back at me. The corners of her lips twitched downward. "You know you can get infections from untreated wounds?"

"So? It doesn't mean—"

"Can you perform stitches by yourself?"

"Of course I can't, but—"

"In a scale of 1 to 5, how would you describe the pain on your ankle?"

" _What the fuck_ —"

"Mello, _just answer_."

"Fine! 3 or 4, happy now?"

"Can you distinguish between the pain caused by a torn ligament and a fractured bone?"

" _Huh?_ "

"Can you be sure it isn't a torn deltoid ligament?"

"A torn _what?_ "

"Can you be sure you don't suffer from either a lateral malleolus fracture or bimollear fracture?"

"Speak in human language, for fuck's sake!"

"See? You can't be sure if it is indeed an ordinary sprain or worse. I can't be sure either. _You need to go to the hospital_."

"Who do you think you are to order me around?"

"Mello, she's right. If you don't treat your injuries sooner, it'll only get worse."

"Shut up, Matt."

"No, Sir. _You_ shut up."

I glared at the girl, who was glaring back at me in return. _Did she just fucking tell me to shut up?_ Even I could see Matt's looking over at her in disbelief with an open mouth.

Valerie closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, releasing it slowly, before opening her eyes and looked sternly at both Matt and I. "You two here have been telling me on what to do or what not to do the entire day. You two have brought me into a chaos I never signed up for. And yet, you two have told me how sorry you are for all of that."

She stopped for a second, wiping her hand across her face frustratingly, and rolled her eyes at me, sending a stoic look. "And Mello, you said earlier that since I'm the med student, I should get you your treatment. So yes; _I am_ the med student, _I_ have seen what it really looks like under human skin, I _know_ about how human body works more than you, and now _I'm_ telling you to get your injuries treated in the hospital," she ranted on. "So if you're truly sorry about treating me like shit the whole day, you'll say nothing more and do as I say. Are we clear?"

* * *

1\. Curse words, loosely translated as "for fuck's sake"

2\. You're French?

3\. No.

4\. German for goodbye, literally meaning "until we see again"

* * *

 **A/N:** Who else read the 'so long, farewell, _auf wiedersehen_ , good night' part while mentally singing the song from _The Sound of Music_?

And wow, this story hits 1200+ views already! You guys rock, you know that?

* * *

 _ **Coming up next...**_

" _Back in that building... why did you rescue me?"_

" _I could say the same thing about you; what makes you decide to help me?"_


	12. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Death Note or any of the characters except for the OCs.

* * *

 **CHAPTER 11**

 **New York, November 19, 2011, 05:13PM**

 **Valerie**

It took a while to convince Mello to go to the hospital, but he finally agreed, to my relief, because I was tired of all these pointless debates against him. I would've been blind if I couldn't see that he did not like my ultimatum one bit, but it wasn't my job to care about that. My only job here was to make sure his injuries get treated as soon as possible and make sure they didn't lead into something worse. Yes, I was actually concerned about his condition.

Even more since he got those injuries from protecting me, intentionally or not.

After my long rant earlier, I ran to the convenience store nearby and bought a pair of scissors and an elastic bandage, then quickly ran back to the two men. Apparently during my short absence, they had gotten into a long, heated, full-of-swearing argument (the heated and full-of-swearing part was one sided actually, three guesses who). I could only bear listening to their debate in silence as I moved without wasting any second. I cut a small portion of Matt's blanket using the scissors (sorry, Matt…) into long pieces to function as temporary tourniquet, and then carefully tied them tightly over Mello's cuts to control the bleeding. After that, I used the elastic bandage to carefully bandage and compress Mello's ankle.

Thankfully their argument was over shortly after, and with a quite satisfying outcome as well. Apparently Mello finally agreed, or most likely was forced to agree, and gave his permission to leave his bike at the parking area at the park within a note that if there's anything happen to his bike then Matt would hold full responsibility. I didn't know what kind of responsibility he meant (did he mean the usual—buy him a new bike—or Mafia-way responsibility?) but anyway, that wasn't really my business, so I didn't ask anything regarding to that. From the argument, Matt also, thankfully, managed to talk to Mello about not bringing his gun with him in the hospital and instead leave it with him in his car. I couldn't explain how relieved I was to know that I didn't have to worry over being threatened at a gunpoint when I would be with him in the hospital.

After that, Matt drove us to the hospital right away. During the ride he told me what he told Mello earlier; from how he first knew about the bombs to the vicodin he found near the building and how he thought it was a legit drug and asking my opinion about it. I barely paid attention to every word; I was too busy keeping an eye on Mello, who was sitting at the backseat with a grim expression like he could've shoot me dead here and now at any time. I had to make sure he didn't do anything unnecessary such as opening the bandages, as well as making sure he was keeping his injured foot lifted above the hip level as I told him to.

As soon as we arrived at the hospital, Mello and I immediately headed to the urgent care center, with me helping Mello walked. I had made it clear that he wasn't allowed to walk by himself, even though it led to his dismay. It was uncomfortable enough having visitors, patients, and hospital staff occasionally glanced at me, or to be exact, at Mello and his extravagant appearance as we made our way, probably experiencing the same wave of intimidation as I did when I first met him. But hey, looking on the bright side, they moved away as fast as they could, making a clear path ahead for us. We went in through the front doors of the urgent care center, and I urged Mello to sit in the waiting room.

"I'll go sign us in, so wait here," I said.

Mello rolled his icy blue eyes at me, sporting the same ever bitter look. "Do you really expect me to wander off somewhere?" he asked mockingly, nodding to his sprained ankle.

Ticked off with his attitude, I opened my mouth to scold him but somehow managed to refrain myself. With some patients and nurses already having their eyes on us, I wouldn't want a drama that will attract more attention. I ran a hand through my hair agitatedly. "You're lucky we're in the hospital so I'll shut up now," I said in a flat tone. "Anyway, I'll need your full name to fill in the forms."

He shrugged indifferently. "Write whatever comes first to your mind."

" _Mello_."

"Fine. It's Michael Keith."

I stared blankly at him and gave no response for a few seconds.

"That's your full name?" I raised an eyebrow.

"You asked for a full name, I gave you one. Now go sign us in."

"So… 'Mello' is only a nickname?"

" _Go. Now._ "

I clicked my tongue in annoyance and walked over to the desk attendant to sign us in. The desk attendant told me to wait for another hour before we get to see the doctor, to my disappointment for having to wait that long, but what else could you expect from one of the busiest departments in the hospital? I joined Mello in the waiting room afterwards and sat beside him.

"We have to wait for an hour," I told him.

"Not surprising," he spat, scowling at the wall on the other side of the waiting room and at every poor patient and nurse who just happened to pass in front us. He folded his arms, both hands clenched into tight fists, that he looked so ready to connect to the jaws of whomever person came into sight the next second. I supposed this was what Matt had referred to earlier: Mello's expertise (or more likely, hobby) on mentally traumatizing innocent bystanders just by a single look.

"Later on the exam room, just please, _please_ try to be cooperative through every session, ok?" I pleaded.

He rolled his eyes and scoffed. "Fine," he growled through clenched jaws.

"Do you really mean that?"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, I said _fine_ , alright? I just wanna get out of here."

"Ok, ok. That's... quite reassuring."

I leaned unto the back of the chair, closing my eyes, and exhaled wearily. Phew, now all's left was to get this done and over with. But even after that, we'd still have to discuss about whether or not they would let me go...

I resisted the will to groan in frustration. _Dear Lord_ , one and a half year being sleep-deprived through med school couldn't even compare to the amount of exhaustion I had been because of today; a single day, not even 24 hours had passed yet.

"... Valerie," Mello called a few minutes later, keeping his voice low.

"What?" I asked tiredly, still keeping my eyes closed.

"What will you tell the doctor?"

"What else? Our injuries of course. Especially yours."

I heard he clicked his tongue impatiently. "Not that—what will you tell the doctor about the cause?"

"The truth? You got your injuries from jumping off 10 foot fire escape because..."

At the moment, my eyes snapped open.

 _Because of what?_

There's no way I would tell the doctors here that Mello and I jumped off the fire escape in a bombed-out building which was set up by the Mafia! How could I didn't think of this before?

Panicking in silence, I slowly turned to Mello, who was at the moment still deadpanning yet sending an annoyed look to me as if he had known it was coming.

* * *

 **Mello**

 _I knew it was coming._

"You shove me into the damn hospital and yet you didn't think of that?" I hissed crisply at her.

She fidgeted uncomfortably in her seat. "Well, sorry! You know I was—"

I rolled my eyes and cut her off. "Forget it. I'll come up with something."

"... Ok. Sorry."

"And take off your gloves. People will think you've just murdered someone."

She laid her eyes on her gloved hands and her eyes bulged out, looking genuinely surprised like she hadn't noticed the blood spots from Jack's body earlier. She hastily took her medical gloves off and stuffed them in her jeans pocket. "Thanks for reminding me. So _that's_ why the convenience store cashier refused to look at me in the eye…"

We didn't say anything in the following minutes, too busy dwelling in our own thoughts. Or in my case, seething in silent. I really wished I had my Beretta at the very moment. It took all my will power to focus my attention somewhere else and resisting landing my fist on every single damn retard who shot me a look like I was a fucking freak or something.

I knew since the beginning that my presence here would most likely make others feel uncomfortable. And while usually I enjoyed every second of it, this time it only led to my great dismay, which only made it ten times worse.

I eyed the silent girl who was sitting next to me. If only I hadn't seen her intelligence with my own eyes, or wasn't to blame for her misfortune today, I wouldn't have so obediently agreed to her ultimatum to go to the hospital. Yeah, you read that right; this was me being _obedient_ , in case you hadn't noticed that.

The worst of all, when I really needed them the most, I ran out of chocolate bars. Ate 'em all at the park. Fuck.

"Mello?"

"What," I growled.

"Back at the park... you asked me if there was anything I wanted to say."

"So?"

A pause. "I did have something in mind. Can I say it now?"

"You almost broke my nose, called me a monster, and even dare telling me to shut up. Why bother asking permission now?"

There was no response, so I turned to look over at Valerie. She was staring down at her lap, frowning, at the same time looking genuinely guilty. _Oh jeez, great, keep making that face to remind me of one hell of a monster I have been the entire day. Fine_.

"Sorry, forget what I said." I decided to give up. "What's on your mind?"

I could see that she was hesitating. I let out a heavy sigh. "I'm not gonna be an ass anymore here, I promise. Just say it," I told her.

She finally looked up. "Ok," she said, still sounding unsure. "Back in that building... why did you rescue me?"

 _Whoa_. I didn't expect that.

Tapping a finger against my elbow in a steady rhythm, I was thinking of how I should answer. Should I be honest? Should I go on sarcasm? Or should I dismiss the question?

"Why do you ask that?"

"I don't know, I'm just thinking... it would've been easier to leave me and make your own escape."

 _And look who never stopped yelling about that_ , I sneered inwardly."Hn. Tell me about that."

"Then why...?"

I sighed and decided to be honest. Partially, at least. "It's the least I can do after all the shit you've been through."

She nodded in acknowledgment. "Alright," she mumbled faintly, "I wish I have said this sooner but... thank you."

I nodded stiffly. "No problem."

"I know you didn't want to go to the hospital for reasons, and I'm sorry I forced you to. It's just..." she pursed her lips, "it concerns me to know you're in a bad shape because of me."

"But it's not. That was my decision, you didn't ask me to."

"If that's what you said..."

"Anyway, I could say the same thing about you; what makes you decide to help me?"

Indeed, it was something worth asking. Like what she had said in that long annoying preaches of hers earlier, she knew about how human body works more than me (which I really hated to admit). So she could've done something; in awareness, intentionally, to sabotage my injuries to her own benefits. Wouldn't she be happy to run away and seek sanctuary elsewhere, fully knowing that her captor couldn't even beat toddlers in a fucking crawling race, and—oh, that reminded me—too fucked up from having too much of heroin flowing in his vessels in the first place?

"Like I said, I'm worried," she said, keeping her tone even.

My eyebrows shot up. "About someone who has taken you by force and pointed a gun in your face?"

She didn't respond right away and downcast her eyes back to the floor. "Well... you did save me at the end, so that counts." A full pause. "And then there's this saying they keep telling us at school... _Primum non nocere_."

"'First, do no harm'," I muttered solemnly.

She nodded. "Yeah. That's why I refused to provide you treatment other than the first aid. Trauma injuries like yours aren't something to be taken lightly. And as I'm still learning, I could've risked causing more harm than good."

I mused on her words, letting them all sink in. "Ok," I finally said. At least that made sense. "By the way, thanks for the first aid."

"You're welcome."

We went back into full silence. Throughout the short conversation, I must admit that it was weird. Just this morning I first met her and pointed my Beretta in her face. Just this afternoon we screamed at each other's lungs. And now we were talking like we were acquaintances. It was... surreal.

"Valerie Rousseau and Michael Keith?"

The nurse's voice sent me back to earth and I looked up at the same time with Valerie.

* * *

 **Valerie**

I helped Mello stood up and we walked over to the nurse. "Miss Rousseau and Mr. Keith?" the nursed asked again and I nodded. "This way, please."

The nurse walked us into an exam room. There, she quickly moved to measure Mello's and my vitals and scribbled the results down on her papers. She asked about our injuries and I quickly explained about Mello's sprain, cuts, and the bumps on our heads. Throughout the questioning I didn't miss how she cast one or two nervous glimpse at the sullen blond man. The poor nurse seemed as she wanted to get out of the room as soon as possible.

"Please wait for a moment, the doctor will be here shortly," she told us, gathered her papers, quickly stormed out of the room and shut the door closed before I could even thank her. Not so long after, I heard a faint new voice outside of the room. As the speaker getting closer, the voice became clearer.

"... and _what the hell_ are you getting so scared of? That's a patient inside the room, and don't tell me you haven't seen burn scars before—now you're talking nonsense. How can looking at a person's eyes knock you out cold? Jesus, and you call yourself a nurse?"

That must be the doctor. _But hold on. The voice sounds familiar…_

The door swung open. A small, stout, stern-faced woman in her middle-age wearing physician white coat entered the room. The chain holder of her eyeglasses was swinging as she walked in. "...that's enough. If I hear another story about hospital staff whimpering over a patient like 5 years old, I'll be the one to cross your names off the list on the next evaluation, _mark my words,_ " she pointed her index finger repeatedly to whoever person outside of the room, scolding the person with a sharp tone (I suspected it was the nurse earlier) and closed the door. "Goodness, nurses these days... Oh, I'm so sorry you have to see that. I'm Dr. Davies, how can I help you, Miss..." She stopped abruptly. " _Rousseau?_ "

I was no less surprised. _No wonder it sounds familiar_. " _Dr. Davies?_ "

"Oh my God!" she extended her hand and shook my hand eagerly, which I returned in the same favor. "When I heard about a patient registered under your name, never have I imagined it would actually be you. How long has it been? Two years? Three?"

"Almost two," I couldn't help but smiling widely, glad to see a familiar face. "I never imagined you'd be in the urgent care as well. I thought you worked in the ER?"

"I did and I still am. Clinic duty this evening. How's the med school doing?"

"Good as for today, thank you. Rotation begins in January."

"Aah, clinical year, eh? You know what they say, never start with the one you're most interested with, save it for later. Have you got something particular in mind?"

"Yes, but I'm not really sure yet..."

I trailed off when I peered over at Mello at the corner of my eyes. He simply looked at me, his eyes demanding explanation.

"Oh, so this is the one who turned the whole center into a gossip network," Dr. Davies commented with a sneer, glancing sideways at Mello. I was impressed by the fact she's the first person I had ever seen, other than Matt, who was immune to Mello's so called 'mental terrorizing'. But then again, as what I had heard so many times from the staff during my internship in the ER, Dr. Davies was nicknamed "The Gestapo". And she didn't earn it for nothing.

The doctor then leaned over to me. "I never knew you're into bad boys, Rousseau," she said in a low voice.

I gawked. "What? No, no, no! He—he's a friend."

 _Wow. Weirdest sentence of the day._

"Hmm, friend, eh? Give him a favor by introducing us, would you? Poor fella looks a little lost there."

I turned to Mello. "Sorry. Um, this is Dr. Camilla Davies, an emergency physician. I had the great opportunity to shadow her during my internship 2 years ago," I informed him. Mello simply gave an acknowledging nod at the doctor.

"So, I heard you have some injuries here, Mr... Keith, right?" Dr. Davies drawled while leafing through her papers.

"Yeah," Mello gruffly replied. I struggled to keep a straight face.

"A sprain, cuts, and also bumps to the head on both of you... May I ask how this happened?"

I nervously stole a glance at Mello.

* * *

 **A/N:** As you may have noticed, I added line breaks between POV switches so that they wouldn't be confusing, courtesy of the tip given by TTY7 (thanks again! :)) Oh, and Dr. Davies character is not from the original Death Note series, but also an original character. That's why I typed OCs with an "s" in the disclaimer.

Also, I want to thank you again for your encouraging and helpful reviews! They never fail to make me smile :D

 **EDIT:** kfranke gave me helpful insights about healthcare procedures in America, and I decided to edit a few tiny things in this chapter. It doesn't affect the main storyline so no worries. I sincerely apologize for the errors.

* * *

 _ **Coming up next...**_

" _You told me to be cooperative through every session. I was simply obeying the command,_ Miss Rousseau."


	13. Chapter 12

**A/N:** Dearest reviewers, I love reading your reactions on Mello's 'full name' from the last chapter XD Let's see what Valerie has to say about that.

And wow, apparently Mello and Valerie have got their very own ship name: Mellerie (Chiruka why u so creative lol)!

* * *

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Death Note or any of the characters except for the OCs.

* * *

 **CHAPTER 12**

 **Mello**

"May I ask how this happened?"

The gears in my mind were ticking as soon as the question escaped Dr. Davies' lips. What would be a believable story to make up?

I wasn't an idiot; I knew a few facts must stay or else it would be too weird of a story and would only bode to an uprising suspicion from the doctor. Meanwhile, the antique glasses, the stern face, complete with perfectly drawn eyebrows showed that the woman did have this whole "no-nonsense" aura surrounding her. And don't think I didn't see the way she had scolded the nurse from earlier or her snide comment about me (she had called me a 'poor fella'. NO ONE called me a 'poor fella' before).

By the way, Valerie said she had shadowed the doctor during her internship period, so I could say that she, at one point, had been Dr. Davies' some kind of protégé, right?

I snarled inwardly. _Well, good job, doc. If only this fucking sprain doesn't prevent me from walking, I would've walked to you and congratulate you for successfully raising a Dr. Davies, Jr. complete with the same bossy attitude and the name-calling habit._

Meanwhile, the brunette girl was looking at me restlessly in the corner of her eyes, probably chanting silent prayers for me not to say something stupid. _Heh._ She didn't have to worry about that. I was too much of a genius for my own good.

 _So you want me to be cooperative? Well, you'll have to be a part of it._

I looked over at the doctor. "Me and my crew were filming this short movie for a college project, and I did the stunt jumping off 10 foot height when things went wrong," I lied smoothly, fingers crossed. "Valerie was visiting the set and accidentally hit her head when rushing to help me."

Dr. Davies raised both eyebrows. "Oh, you're a film student?" she affirmed.

"Yeah," I replied with a normal attitude.

"From what you told me, I take it that you're filming some kind of… what, an action movie?"

"Uh-huh. Cops, gangsters, criminal syndicates… that kind of stuff."

"Ok, that'll explain the... costume," Dr. Davies jotted the information down. I could only hope the doctor bought my words. Not that I wasn't ticked off when she mentioned my clothing preference as a costume, but oh well, I certainly couldn't protest at this moment. "But the burn scars; I know that's not make-up, is it?"

"No, it's my own scars. Apparently that's what made my crew think I'm perfect for the role of this… criminal character," I said, almost hesitating for a moment there. Little did the doctor know I was actually close to a real-life criminal, though…

"Alright. You didn't complain about the scars so I'll respect your privacy and I won't ask about that. But I do think you may want to sue your crew for your accident. And for their lack of compassion, as I don't see any of them kind enough to keep you company," the doctor continued.

"I asked them not to; the filming must keep going. Deadline's in two days. Besides," I nodded slightly at Valerie, "she's already keeping me company _all day long_ ," I drawled, sending her a significant look.

Valerie made a choked sound.

"I see." Dr. Davies cast an amused look towards the brunette. "I'm assuming you two are rather close?"

"No—"

"You can say that," I cut Valerie off and pretending not noticing how she shot me a quizzical look. "In fact, she never stopped nagging me to go to the hospital—"

"That's because you were being stubborn," Valerie hissed, eyes narrowed.

I looked at her slyly. "Hey, no need to be shy... Just tell the doctor here that you're worried about me just like what you told me earlier, hmm?"

She didn't say anything else and threw her hands in the air before folding her arms, looking away begrudgingly. A faint tint of pink appeared on her cheeks. I mentally grinned in satisfaction. _Payback time._ Well, it seemed like this hospital visit wouldn't be so boring after all...

"Ok, I get it," the unsuspecting doctor said with a half-smile. "When did it happen?"

"About 3 hours ago."

"No chest pains, difficulty breathing?" she asked and I shook my head. She told me to take off my jacket and vest and then began untying the tourniquet on my right arm. "You will need stitches for sure," the doctor said while inspecting the cuts over my arm carefully and moved to check my torso. "You have some cuts here as well... luckily nothing like your arm but still need to be cleaned up." She moved over to inspect the back of my head. "A single bruise, a bit swollen but no external bleeding... Looking fine on the outside but perhaps needs a scan just to make sure... Now, may I see your ankle?"

I let Dr. Davies undid the bandage. "Good thing at least you came in quite a good shape. You bandaged him, Rousseau?"

Valerie nodded, her eyes were now fixated back at the doctor keenly, observing every movement, obviously avoiding my eyes. "Yes, I cut small pieces from a blanket for the tourniquet and I performed RICE(1) as soon as I had a look on his sprain."

"Very good."

"But I didn't know of his injuries until half an hour later. Mel—Michael hid it well."

"Hmm. You're a lucky man, Mr. Keith." The doctor leaned in to get a better look at the sprain. "If it wasn't for your friend here, your sprain would've been worsened by now. Although it isn't so surprising since she was one of the most dedicated pre-med in her time here."

"You were?" I looked over at Valerie, who was shaking her head and looking obviously embarrassed for whatever reason.

"You don't know? She never told you about Twiggy?"

"I've only got to know her, uh, recently."

"Oh, you should know. That day the ER was extremely busier than usual, and this patient came in with twigs sticking out of his scalp, bleeding everywhere—we called him Twiggy—and Rousseau was the first to respond to help assisting us doctors removing the twigs out of the poor lad."

"Dr. Davies, I only held the tray," Valerie said timidly.

"Still better compared to the other pre-meds who were cowering at the corner of the room like lost puppies," the doctor spoke bitterly, now carefully feeling the skin around the sprain. "ER is simply not a place for the weakhearted. And I wouldn't have a weakhearted pre-med shadow me as it would've been troublesome. ER is enough trouble."

I elevated my brows, impressed. No wonder this girl didn't lose her head when she saw Jack's dead body earlier.

Dr. Davies then urged me to try moving my ankle to certain directions and asked me about the level of the pain. After several examinations, including on Valerie ("Just a minor bump and light bruises, just keep in mind to apply the ice pack every 3 to 4 hours and you'll be fine," she told her), she then cleaned my wounds and patched me up for stitches while communicating with the observing brunette about the whole procedures.

* * *

 **Valerie**

"The ankle joint is not stiff," Dr. Davies told me, "but he feels sore when trying to stress the lateral ankle ligament."

"Which means he injured the anterior talofibular?" I confirmed.

"Most likely, yes. He has significant ligament laxity and a likely grade two tear of this ligament, but I guess you already know that."

"I suspected a grade two... but I couldn't be sure on which ligament is torn since I didn't dare to examine the ankle like you did, only the first aid," I told her the truth.

"And that's a wise decision. Without the RICE, it could've escalated quickly into grade three. You already did well."

I smiled. It relieved me to know that Dr. Davies approved my decision. "Thank you, doctor. So, no lateral malleolus or bimalleolar fracture? And how about his head, do you suspect any MTBI(2)?"

"From the examination I would say no to both, but I order x-rays and a CT just to be sure."

"Oh, ok."

"Now watch closely—this is how you do a neat continuous stitch on this kind of wound..."

I observed the procedure keenly and memorizing everything that Dr. Davies explained to me. She offered me to perform the stitches, jokingly of course, but I would've refused as well even if she had been serious. Sure, I had learned how to do stitches in school, but not on actual wounds; mainly on suturing kits and banana skins.

And certainly I _wouldn't_ dare practicing my surgical suturing skill on Mello, whose eyes might have burned the cabinet in front of him into ashes if he had the ability. I get that he's still annoyed, but _come on_ , he had unleashed them at me just a moment ago and in a very embarrassing way! I should be the one annoyed, not him!

So after the stitching procedure was over and Dr. Davies told me that she would prep Mello for x-rays and then disappearing behind the door, I couldn't keep silent anymore.

" _What was that?_ " I asked Mello tersely.

"What was what?" he asked back with a straight face.

" _That._ When Dr. Davies questioned you."

"Which one? You have to be more specific."

 _You KNOW which one._ I clicked my tongue and glanced away, trying to hide my flushed cheeks. There was no use talking to this person. "Forget it."

"You told me to be cooperative through every session. I was simply obeying the command, _Miss Rousseau_ ," he drew out every syllable of the last two words, watching in amusement as my face getting hotter at the way he had called me.

"Cut it off. Did you really have to mention me many times?"

"Hey missy, you're the one who didn't think of a backstory in the first place. Show me some gratitude."

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever. And tell me; is 'Michael Keith' your real name?"

"What do you think?"

I stared at him momentarily, squinting my eyes, scrutinizing every inch of Mello's figure from head to toe. "… No. Absolutely not."

"Why not?"

 _Do I really have to answer that?_ "It doesn't fit your image."

He snorted loudly. "You say that. Not me."

"I bet that 'Mello' isn't your real name either, is it?"

"Nice try, Sherlock."

I exhaled sharply and shook my head. " _What the hell_ are you thinking, giving away false name like that?"

"Who said it's a false name?" Mello asked cooly.

I shot him a glare. "I _know_ it's a false name. You could get arrested! _We_ could get arrested!"

"Oh, is 'Valerie Rousseau' a false name?"

"Of course not, that's my _REAL_ name!" I shrieked, struggling to keep my hands from pulling my hair. "But you can get us into more trouble!"

Mello was still putting on the poker face, though I swore he was actually enjoying the moment and really close to burst out laughing. "Well then, even if that's a false name, it's _my_ name, not yours. No need to get so worked up."

I took a deep, deep breath and releasing it slowly. _Very_ slowly. " _Tu me cours sur le haricot_ _…_ (3) _"_

"Hey." Mello frowned. "I heard that."

* * *

 **Mello**

A while later Dr. Davies came back and told us the preparation for the x-ray is complete. Valerie (finally seeping back into calm mode) accompanied us moving to where the x-ray room located. "By the way," I said to her out of curiosity just outside of the x-ray room, "watching them pulling bloody twigs out of a human head in a close range like that, how did that feel?"

Biting her lip and peering over her shoulder as if to make sure Dr. Davies couldn't hear us, she leaned over. "I had not been a pre-med for too long at that time; you know," she whispered. "Still getting the hang around things I had only learnt or seen from textbooks. I also had never seen any kind of trauma injuries with my own eyes before. I only knew that they were quite sickening to see."

"Then why did you do your internship in the ER anyway?" I cocked an eyebrow at her. I couldn't agree more with the doctor about ER not being a place for the weakhearted. "And _why_ are we whispering?"

She ignored the last question. "Well, they were sickening, but that's the thrill, you know? Like, how would it be to see them right under your nose? So I'd asked around and most people told me that ER is the best department if I wanted to get as much clinical experience as possible. You get to watch interesting things happening there."

 _Oh. I get it now._ "So, for a curious rookie like you, ER served as the best place to pump up your adrenaline with severely injured patients everywhere." I snarled. "Wow, never have I ever thought you're secretly a psycho."

Valerie deadpanned. " _Excuse me?_ Look who's talking."

"Jeez, can't even take a joke, huh?" I sneered. She only rolled her eyes.

"Anyway, Twiggy case happened on one morning, on my very first week of internship. The previous few days were only the scut work: cleaning beds, changing sheets, escorting patients in and out, asking the patients if there's anything they need, bringing water—"

"And 'Twiggy' came to the rescue in the middle of your one hell of a boring week."

"I _never_ said it was boring—ugh, ok. At first I thought so too, so when one of the doctors called for any available pre-med to bring the tray over and hold it through the process, I stepped in before I knew it. And the next thing came into my sight was... blood. Blood everywhere, and there were those twigs sticking out of his scalp, wet with dripping blood..."

I wrinkled my nose. "Yeah, yeah, I get the image. Stop describing."

"I thought disturbing images don't even bother you one bit?" Valerie looked at me bemusedly.

"They don't. But I never saw a man with bloody twigs sticking out of his head before."

"Alright. So, when the whole thing was over, it was almost lunch hour. Twiggy was transported to the OR, and they told me that he had gone past the critical condition. But I was still standing in the same spot as before. I was overwhelmed. I couldn't believe that was my first real ER patient experience ever."

I resisted the urge to yawn. "Uh-huh..."

"And then Dr. Davies approached me that time, and then we talked about a few more things, and the next thing she offered me an opportunity to shadow her for the next few months of my internship."

"Congratulations... though I suppose it's far too late to say that now."

A small smile appeared on her lips. "It is, but thanks anyway. Next, my fellow pre-meds asked me to join lunch and tell them everything that had happened with Twiggy in the ER."

"So that was it. Everybody lived happily ever after. The end."

"No, actually, I missed my lunch that day."

I raised an eyebrow. "Why? Oh, I know—the promising pre-med Valerie Rousseau was in no place to abide alongside the commoners..."

She flashed me a look. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

I rolled my eyes. "It's a joke, _missy_."

"Sounds more like a sarcasm. And _stop_ calling me that."

"No with that 'little miss bossy' attitude of yours. So why didn't you have lunch?"

Valerie sighed. "I went to the bathroom for a moment, thought I would just clean up before having lunch. But then I looked at my reflection on the mirror and... the images of twigs sticking out of Twiggy's scalp with blood dripping everywhere just came back to me."

I tilted my head. "It was that horrible, wasn't it."

"It was. And _that's_ why we're whispering," she lowered her volume even more. A grimace was now plastered on her face. "Dr. Davies told you how she despises weak pre-med interns. And she _certainly_ wouldn't want to find out that the pre-med she had permitted to shadow her, in reality," her expression turned into a guilty look, " _threw up_ in her very first ER case."

* * *

 _1\. RICE: A mnemonic for 4 elements used to treat soft tissue injuries:_ _ **R**_ _est,_ _ **I**_ _ce,_ _ **C**_ _ompression,_ _ **E**_ _levation_

 _2\. MTBI:_ _ **M**_ _ild_ _ **T**_ _raumatic_ _ **B**_ _rain_ _ **I**_ _njury_

 _3\. You're really getting on my nerves..._

* * *

 **A/N:** Even the brightest med students had to start from something.

Now, I know these past few chapters have been quiet, but the next chapter will start to pick up where we left off.

* * *

 _ **Coming up next...**_

" _I'm sorry if this sounds harsh, but tell me," the doctor began, "is your friend over there currently under influence of certain drugs, to your knowing?"_


	14. Chapter 13

**A/N:** For a head start, **I do not have any medical background** and every medical reference in this fic is **purely based on independent research in the internet** so there's always a chance **it might not be 100% right.**

Oh, and medical dramas. My personal favorites are House MD and Grey's Anatomy.

Ok I'll stop rambling now.

Special thanks to Alkirian who beta-ed this chapter (my first ever beta!) and did an awesome job on correcting my bad grammar/tenses :D

* * *

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Death Note or any of the characters except for the OCs.

* * *

 **CHAPTER 13**

 **Valerie**

Thankfully, Mello's x-rays and CT scan showed nothing on fractures or MTBIs. So after she put him into an ACE wrap and an air cast, prescribed him NSAIDs (1), and told us to come back to the clinic in one week to have his stitches removed and in two weeks for re-evaluating his ankle, Dr. Davies discharged us.

But apparently not so soon, since she—out of the blue—dragged me to the corner of the waiting room, much to my confusion.

"What is it, Dr. Davies?" I asked.

"Rousseau," she said in a low voice, but it was the same voice like she had always used in "The Gestapo" mode. It sent shivers down my spine in an instant, "I need you to be honest."

I swallowed nervously, trying to stay calm and collected. What was it that she wanted me to be honest? Don't tell me she was aware that we were lying about Mello's cause of injury? Or that he was, in reality, no ordinary civilian?

"Yes, doctor?"

She briefly peered at Mello from the corner of her eyes, who was watching over us in silence, sporting his trademark bitter look as he sat in the waiting room, before returning her attention at me. "I'm sorry if this sounds harsh, but tell me," the doctor began, "is your friend over there currently under the influence of certain drugs, to your knowing?"

I froze on the spot.

 _Oh, no. No. No, no, no._

It took me a while to decide what to reply.

"Uh, what makes you think that?"

I mentally cursed myself right away. _What kind of second-year med student asks silly question like that?_

She arched a neatly drawn eyebrow. "Do not test me. Flushed skin, dry mouth, vital signs especially heart rate and respiratory rate slightly below normal; need I say more? So, unless there are no other signs, I won't stop asking," she said. "Now, do you notice any signs of nausea, vomiting, or even drowsiness on him lately?"

My mind was battling. Should I tell her the truth?

No, of course I couldn't tell her the _actual_ truth; my life was at stake here! But I knew I couldn't lie to a full-fledged physician either... then how should I answer?

"... Yes, I think so," I answered uneasily.

"And?"

 _What should I say?_

"I only know that he had his fair share of painkillers this week..." I tried to be as vague as possible, my thumbs fiddling frantically behind my back. _Mello's going to kill me._ "But that's only to because of his burns," I quickly added. "He stops taking them today."

"What kind of painkillers?"

 _Think, Valerie, think!_ "V-Vicodin...?" I stammered the first thing that came to my mind.

"Did he take the right dose or did he take more?"

"He—" _Shit, I can't lie about this one. "_ He said he often took more..."

"And _why_ didn't you tell me sooner about this?" she asked sharply.

I felt horrible, half-lying to the doctor who had greatly contributed to my current studies like this. "I'm sorry, I didn't know any of that until today either..."

"Today when? This morning? Just now?"

"Um, this morning..."

"So you're basically telling me it kinda slipped out of your mind. Is that so?"

I didn't know what else to say and I could only shut my mouth, casting my eyes to the floor.

Dr. Davies sighed and fixed her glasses. "I'm sorry, Rousseau," she said, her voice softened. "You're a patient here and not my pre-med anymore. I shouldn't have criticized you like that."

"No... it's alright, doctor. I deserved that," I replied, inwardly feeling a tad bit relieved. "I'm really sorry. I mean it."

"Promise me this won't happen again. You're gonna be a doctor someday. You would take an oath. And you can't let even the slightest thing slips away like that."

I felt my heart sunk, fully aware that I had not exactly let the fact slip away, but intentionally half-lied about it to the doctor. I nodded solemnly. "I promise I'll keep that in mind..."

"Good. When was the last time he took Vicodin?"

I pursed my lips. "Around 9 this morning."

"Alright. If it's true that it's only been a week, then he'd only have very mild withdrawal symptoms and it'd be tolerable. The ibuprofen I prescribed him would also help relieving the muscle aches. In case he experiences diarrhea or abdominal cramps, I assume you already know what to take?"

I nodded. "Loperamide can bind to opioid receptors within the intestines, thus relieve diarrhea or abdominal cramps. Will OTC (2) medicine containing loperamide like Imodium work?"

"It'll work. But call me right away if you notice any side effects."

"Ok."

"Now, I know I said I would respect his privacy yet I couldn't help but wondering: _what on earth_ happened to him to have those burns?"

"He... told me he got trapped inside a building in fire."

"The scars look pretty fresh. Do you know when that happened?"

"Last week. He didn't tell me exactly on what day, though..."

"Oh my God. Poor man... Danger follows him everywhere, doesn't it."

 _Absolutely true, doctor. And everyone else around him._

"Well, you know I'm bound to doctor-patient confidentiality, so I won't report his recreational drug use unless there's court order. After all, your friend is not the only one; patients lie to their doctors all the time."

"... Ok. Thank you."

"And Rousseau, be honest about one more thing."

 _Dear Lord, now what?_ "Yes?" I braced myself.

The thin smile that currently appeared on the doctor's face was the last thing I expected. "Is the 'friend' thing real? Don't think I didn't notice this... tension between you two back at the exam room."

I _really_ wanted the floor to crack open and swallow me right here and now. "Can we _please_ change the topic, doctor?" I said through clenched teeth.

"Alright, alright..."

We exchanged a few more words, she asked me in particular to keep an eye on Mello's medication and withdrawal treatments, not to let him repeat the same addiction on his current medication and so on, seek help from health providers if urgently needed, and finally let me go.

"What are you two talking so secretively about?" Mello grunted as I approached him.

I hesitated for a moment there. I took a breath, bracing myself to prepare for Mello's worst reactions. "Dr. Davies knows you're under drug influence."

He looked alarmed. "What did you tell her?" He eyed me with narrowed eyes.

"I swear I said nothing of the heroin," I quickly replied in a low voice, my eyes sweeping across the whole room, afraid if someone's listening, and told Mello about the whole conversation (minus the last question, of course). To my greatest relief, he didn't snap on me right away. But I could see he didn't like it one bit. "Look, I'm truly sorry I couldn't cover your dependence on painkillers..."

"You already did well."

* * *

 **Mello**

Valerie looked at me in disbelief as soon as the words escaped my lips. I couldn't help but guessing about what kind of reaction she had expected from me. The wave of guilt was back. _Am I that much of a savage in her eyes?_

She had lied to the doctor acquaintance of her and I knew it wasn't easy, given the good scolding she had to receive because of that. Sure, she was the one who insisted going to the hospital at the first instance, and I didn't like this newfound fact at all, but she must had been conflicted inside: the urge to blurt out the whole truth and have local authorities arrest me right on the spot, or doing none of that and only did what's necessary to have my injuries treated.

And she had chosen the latter. What kind of person I was if I didn't have the slightest gratitude?

"You're not mad?" she asked cautiously.

I shrugged. "Why should I?"

"But back at the alley you said—"

"I told you not to do anything unnecessary. You did what's necessary."

"I thought... telling the doctor that—"

"She believed you about the Vicodin, right?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess? Since both heroin and Vicodin—"

"—belong to the same class of drugs: opioids, thus the similar early signs of use," I finished the sentence, remembering the information from science books I had read in my younger days, Valerie's examination this morning, and did the math. "So without further tests, the doctor couldn't have known for sure which one I've been taking."

She nodded. "That's what I thought. And even if she intends to run tox screen... well, possibly next week when you'll have your stitches removed—"

"—the results would be more likely negative since both drugs wouldn't be detectable in blood after 2 days and in urine after 2-6 days. She'll find no trace of the heroin and probably would just confirm that I'm actually on Vicodin withdrawal," I concluded. "Well, that is if the doctor doesn't decide to take a hair sample instead, for it will show up positive for at least 90 days. But it's rather unlikely since tox screen is most often done using a blood or urine sample..." I trailed off, and returned my attention to Valerie. "Is that what you're saying?"

Valerie looked at me astonishingly, lips parted. "Yeah," she nodded, eyes widened. "Yeah, that's right."

I deadpanned. "Quit giving me that look."

"What look?" she switched back into neutral expression as quick as she could. Too bad my eyes won the race.

"My knowledge in gross anatomy might not be as vast as yours, but I still know a thing or two about drugs."

She blinked. "Oh. Right. I almost forgot you were a Mafia member."

"Or _maybe,_ " I countered back, "I'm simply well-educated."

"… Right," she murmured. The skeptical tone was strikingly obvious, to my annoyance, but I decided to brush it off for now.

She took a breath. "This is only an opinion but... are you sure you don't want to tell the doctor about the heroin? It's an illegal drug, yes, but you accidentally took it because it's disguised as Vicodin. Every doctor is bound to doctor-patient confidentiality, you know—"

"I know," I cut her off. "But I also know there are exceptions. It might have been different if I was a mere user, but what if they track it down to the Mafia's illegal drug trade?" I lowered my voice. "Don't get me wrong; I loathe Rod and everything inside the damn circle and I want to crush his skull and kick his ass so bad. But I _still need_ to monitor any activities inside the Mafia to find anything related to the Don and Jack's murders."

There was a lengthy pause before Valerie spoke up. "If you say so... then I'll say nothing more. I know it's none of my business."

"Good."

"Still… you _really_ not gonna yell at me for telling the doctor?"

I rolled my eyes. "Listen, stop worrying. You look exhausted," I patted an empty chair next to me. "Sit down for a minute."

Valerie still looked puzzled, but obeyed nonetheless and sat down. In the meantime, I glanced at my newest and most sophisticated item ever: the air cast. My stitches were way less bothersome than this. Wearing the air cast felt so weird and uncomfortable. Not to mention that it made me look utterly ridiculous. Dr. Davies had stated that I had to wear the air cast for around two weeks before coming back to the hospital for a re-evaluation, and I _really_ didn't want to hear whatever snarky comment Matt's gonna throw at me for that long.

Plus, it fucking irked me to my core to know that I, a grown man, should be babysat by a girl—most of all, the very same girl who had been scared shitless of me when I was in a better shape. I'd never admit this out loud, but anyone else would've agreed that it was quite humiliating.

Well, at least it seemed Valerie and I had gone past the rocky start and started a better communication for now. I had my fair amount of troubles for today and I didn't want any more incoming.

" _We bring you the breaking news: American Mafia spotted in New York City. Just this afternoon, a group of what are suspected as Mafia gangsters did an ambush just outside an apartment located in NYC suburbs..._ "

The faint, tinny sound turned my attention away, and I looked over to the TV placed near to the corner of the room. The screen was displaying the chaotic view around Matt's apartment with the reporter describing the location, crowds gathering around the area, and cops being interviewed about the situation.

 _That news spread out fast..._ I thought rather worriedly. My instincts perked up; afraid if somehow they had caught either of me, Matt, or Valerie on the camera when we left the apartment, but luckily it didn't seem to mention or show anything about the three of us. Anyway, I know it would be better if we get out of here as soon as possible.

"Time's up. Let's go," I growled and made an effort to stand up.

Valerie didn't budge.

When I followed the direction of her eyes, I understood. "Relax, they didn't show nor mention us. But we have to go now," I told her, but Valerie was still not showing any intention to stand up. Instead, I immediately noticed her tense look. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"It's world news," she said, rather blankly.

I looked back at the TV. There were tiny letters spelling 'WORLD NEWS' on the bottom left corner of the screen. I barked a scoff. "Typical media exaggeration. So?"

"My parents know my apartment location. And if there's a chance it also airs in France..." Valerie turned her gaze to meet me, her face aghast, "they may hear about this."

* * *

 **Valerie**

Mello turned stiff. His icy blue eyes penetrated through me quietly, and I assumed he caught what I had been meaning to say.

"I need to call my parents," I stated, emphasizing every word. Knowing that the news about the Mafia ambush was being aired all over the world had been enough to make me a bundle of nerves.

Like what Mello had pointed out, the news on TV didn't mention or show him, Matt, or me, but how could I know for sure how far the authorities' investigation around the apartment area had progressed? I left my medical bag at Matt's flat and who knew if the police might use it as an evidence for the investigation?

And if this reached my parents, they would've been worried sick.

At this moment I knew even if my parents wanted to, they couldn't reach me at all; I had been away almost all day long. It might sound normal for me going outside for a whole day in some occasions, but it was certainly different in this one. Moreover, I didn't bring my cell phone so I couldn't contact them as well, just to inform them that I was alright so they didn't have to be worried about me.

But unfortunately, I knew I could do nothing unless Mello gives me his permission.

The blond man hadn't given any response, only eyeing me with furrowed eyebrows and dark look. I knew it right away—he's being wary that I might report everything that had happened to me today.

"Mello, I promise, I won't tell them anything about today," I tried to assure him. "I just want them to know that I'm alright."

He considered it for a moment. "How can I be sure?" he lowered his voice. But I noticed he wasn't using the same cold, threatening tone as he did before. It sounded more like a confirmation.

"I didn't even tell either the nurse or Dr. Davies about the heroin or anything that happened today. You know that. I won't tell my parents about any of that either. Please, believe me, I just don't want them to be worried and resort to desperate measures..."

Mello averted his gaze away, seemingly thinking hard, but still gave no response. I sighed exasperatedly and scooted closer to him. "Mello, listen to me," I tried to bring his attention back, "I know that involving outsiders into this… business of yours is the last thing you wanted. Matt told me. And to me, involving my family is also the last thing I ever wanted," I uttered solemnly. "After all, the fact is that I'm alright this very second. I'm safe and sound, thanks to you."

He turned slightly to me at the last sentence, and after noticing his sullen expression I hurriedly added, "Of course, not that I'm grateful of what happened to you after that! I mean, I'm grateful that you saved my life, but it's not like I'm happy or relieved that you're injured, but you did protect me from getting hurt, so—ugh, why is it so difficult to put this into words…"

"I get it," Mello spoke, and I _swore_ I saw a split-second half-smile there on his lips before it disappeared completely like it never had been there from the start.

"Ok… so, can you please believe me when I say I just don't want any more trouble, or questioning from the authorities, or anything like that? I just want to let them know their only daughter is safe. Please?"

I waited for a while, every second felt like a whole century had passed, before finally Mello heaved a long sigh and returned his eyes at me.

"I'll have to talk it over with Matt first. Until then, you'll do nothing."

* * *

 _1\. NSAIDs:_ _ **N**_ _on_ _ **s**_ _teroidal_ _ **a**_ _nti-_ _ **i**_ _nflammatory_ _ **d**_ _rugs_

 _2\. OTC:_ _ **O**_ _ver-_ _ **t**_ _he-_ _ **c**_ _ounter drugs: medicines that can be sold directly to a consumer without a prescription_

* * *

 **A/N:** Our favorite Matty boy will return next chapter! And thank you so much as always for the wonderful reviews and constructive criticisms. :D

* * *

 _ **Coming up next...**_

 _Just please_ , _please show me just a little bit more of your human side._


	15. Chapter 14

**A/N:** Special thanks to my super fast beta Alkirian who will continue to help me throughout the rest of this fic! :)

* * *

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Death Note or any of the characters except for the OCs.

* * *

 **CHAPTER 14**

 **Mello**

Valerie's expression, which had been blatantly hopeful at first, ceased into a devastated look the moment I gave her my response. Her shoulders fell down, and she backed away. I watched as she tried hard not to show her dismay openly, but there's no use hiding anything from me. Like I said, my eyes had been trained to see what mediocrities couldn't.

And just then, when she asked my permission, frankly I saw no gesture, facial expressions, nor muscle twitch that indicated something was off. I knew she was being honest on her intention; calling her parents to inform them her whereabouts, with no other funny tricks under her sleeves. She wasn't a good liar from the start after all.

I did feel guilty that I didn't grant my permission right away. Especially when I knew she was desperate. This was about her family; her parents would've been worried sick of her if they knew about the news, and so did her. I wasn't a heartless bastard—I never grew up with my birth family, but I did know what it's like to have a family member who cared about you, whom you also returned the affection. If I didn't have the slightest of any of that, I wouldn't have been so bloody frustrated and outraged about Rod and how he had taken the life of the only person who had been kind to me in my Mafia days, the only father figure I had ever known.

The only thing that prevented me from giving my permission was because I also knew there was a risk here. Not just for me or for Matt, but also for her. I had involved a total of two persons into my personal business when I originally never planned for a third party. Remind me again about what was intentionally meant as a mere short exam by a complete stranger, ended up with the same stranger almost died in a fire and I became a pathetic cripple?

There's no way I would have the same accident happened for the second time. No fucking way.

...

Or maybe Matt was right.

Maybe I was only being paranoid? Or maybe, the whole paranoia thing was simply the heroin's doing?

That's why I had to talk the matter over with him first.

And secretly, deep down, I had to admit that I did want to help the girl. Matt could talk me through things like this, like what he'd been doing effortlessly all the time since we knew each other. He had been my loyal companion, my best friend since I never knew the Mafia, and I greatly treasured him for that. I knew I didn't always listen to him, but I couldn't deny that most of the time he was right.

"Oh. Um, alright..."

Valerie's tiny voice disrupted my short muse. Her eyes were downcast. "Let's pick up your prescriptions at the pharmacy and meet Matt at the car. Here—let me help you…"

She helped me standing up, but for some reason deliberately choosing not to look at me in the eye. Not even when she spoke about picking up my prescriptions. Not even when we made our way out of the urgent care. We didn't even talk when she walked me through the hallways.

Not that it bothered me, but it certainly caught my attention. If she was upset with my decision then fine, have your way, curse me and yell at me all you want like I care. Hell, if that was the case, that'd be actually understandable.

But I didn't saw that on her face. Anxiety, yeah. Sadness, no doubt. But no anger. Instead...

 _What's with the shame?_

* * *

 **Valerie**

We took a short trip to the hospital pharmacy to pick up Mello's prescriptions. I aided Mello on walking like before, only this time I refrained from making any eye contact with him. I just... I couldn't bring myself for any eye contact. It was hard to choose the right words, but if I really had to explain... I felt like I had embarrassed myself in front of the ex-Mafioso.

I felt ashamed for being naïve.

For a second there, I almost thought that he was really going to allow me to call my parents. I had to admit that the way we communicated had been slightly less uncomfortable compared to when I first met him. I didn't know what might have been the reason: was it because we, in some way, owed each other our lives? Was it because I was getting used to his snide remarks? Was it because we were in a public place and he didn't have his gun to speak for himself? Or was it simply because we were having actual conversations between two persons; not between an abductor and a hostage? I couldn't have known. But we did have a better progress on exchanging a word or two to each other.

And that was what apparently had boosted my expectation. I felt so, so stupid—I felt like an idiot for believing that since we had communicated better, Mello would just drop these whole things behind and let me do whatever I wanted, especially in a worrisome situation like this. I should have known better that that. _And there I was, getting my hopes up over a couple of chit-chats..._

I wasn't his friend. I wasn't an acquaintance. I was an outsider. I was _a hostage_ , for God's sake. Why would an abductor show compassion to a hostage? How could I be that naïve?

...

 _Or maybe..._ a tiny voice inside my head whispered, _did he show a little compassion over there?_

Mello hadn't rejected my request right away. He had said he would talk it over with Matt, so... there was still a room for me to hope for a positive outcome, right?

After all, from what I had seen, Matt never showed any intention of harming me. In fact, he had been acting more like a friend, guilt-driven or not. Matt had acted as a bridge between me and Mello earlier and I appreciated his help for that. If it wasn't for Matt, neither would Mello apologize nor agree to go to the hospital. I'd like to think how Matt treated me—as a person and not as a hostage—throughout this unfortunate situation as the only thing that kept me sane to this point. For now, I could only hope that Matt could talk Mello into allowing me to call my parents.

As the leather-clad blond handed over his prescriptions to the pharmacist, I stood just behind his back, observing in silence.

 _Just please_ , I pleaded silently, _please show me just a little bit more of your human side._

* * *

 **Mello**

Not so long after, we found ourselves in the hospital parking lot walking towards the bright red Camaro. Matt's head poked out of the driver window the second he noticed us.

"Oh, finally!" he exclaimed loudly, opened the door, and ran to approach us, "Any idea how torturing it is for me to wait for you guys and I can literally do nothing? Literally? Fucking dead game console and no smoking around the hospital—oh, _wow_. That is _one hell_ of a boot," Matt's rant stopped as soon he cast a glance on my air cast. He glanced up at me, "You know Mels, actually I like this one on you more than your usual boots."

I rolled my eyes. "Save the mockery for later, Matt. We have a new situation: Rod's ambush is all over the news. World news."

"It's on the news already?" Matt's eyes narrowed behind the tinted goggles as he and Val helped me getting into the backseat, before both of them got into the car afterwards, "I overheard the talk among some visitors… but fuck, _world news_."

"Yeah," I hissed as I tried to find a comfortable position for my lower right leg in the narrow space, "Luckily there's no mention about any of us three so far, but we can't know for how long. Now I'll get to the point. She," I nodded at Valerie on the front seat, "wants to call her parents."

Valerie looked over at Matt, the hopeful expression was back.

"Well, I see no reason why she can't," Matt shrugged, "If the news reaches her family, they'd flip out."

"Matt," I stressed, "We both know we don't want any more trouble here."

He narrowed his eyes. "You mean, you suspect she'd tell them everything?" Matt muttered, casting a glance at the brunette.

"I won't, trust me," Valerie said, wearily, before I could open my mouth to tell Matt that it wasn't that I doubt her. But ultimately I decided to let her speak for herself, "I'm the same as you guys are; I don't want any more trouble. I only want to inform my parents that I'm alright, especially since they haven't heard anything from me the whole day. Matt, you know I left my medical bag at your flat and who knows if the police suspect something that might get all of us into trouble. And I really don't want that to happen."

"Oh, actually about that, you don't have to worry," Matt said light-heartedly, which made both me and Valerie looking at him in confusion, "Back at the apartment, I created a little diversion for Rod and his men while I took my time to hide your bag, along with my tools and what's left of my dearest laptops—" he made a face on the latter, "—in a safe place."

"Where?"

"Well, somewhere inside the apartment building for sure—I didn't have much time. But I bet it will be the last thing on the cops' mind to look at. Even if they search my flat, they'd find nothing that would lead to us," he grinned smugly, looking confident on what he had said.

Valerie sighed in relief. And to be honest, a part of me was relieved as well; that meant Matt had gotten rid of any evidence. But something still bugged me.

"How about fingerprints?" I pointed out, "And the Vicodin? And the heroin test?"

"Don't worry about the Vicodin and the heroin test; I managed to dispose them as well. But for the fingerprints…" Matt thought it for a moment. "Hmm. Well, at least you're safe man, since you never took your gloves off in my flat. Sometimes I do take my gloves off, so I'm sure my fingerprints will still be around… but hey, in case the cops paid a little visit to my flat, it would be more suspicious if they couldn't find any fingerprint, don'tcha think?"

"What about _my_ fingerprints?" Valerie blanched.

"Ok, calm down, Val. You're my neighbor, and it's only normal if neighbors visit each other. At least, those cops couldn't have been dumb enough to suspect trivial things like that."

"But the landlord surely knows your place. They could've questioned him about your identity or search the papers or something," I said.

The striped-clothed redhead cocked an eyebrow. "Well, thanks to _someone_ , who is constantly being paranoid about nothing, I learn not to sign anything under my real name or give it away easily to anyone. Happy now, teacher—OW!" his left hand flew to the back of his head in reflex, "Fuck, Mello, you should've injured your wrist instead of your ankle!"

"Pray that it wouldn't be your head next," I commented with a satisfied smirk, sneaking my gloved hand back into my folded arms in process, but inwardly feeling really grateful to my companion here. I knew I could count on Matt. Jeez, if only he could learn not to make fun of me at random times...

"Hold on, 'Matt' isn't your real name either?" Valerie asked.

Matt gave the girl an apologetic smile. "Sorry, Val. Mello said it's better for both us to hide our real nam—wait, you said _either_?" He then turned to me, sending a questioning look.

I rolled my eyes and snorted. "I never said anything."

"But I'm right, am I?" she pressed further, finally willing to look at me.

"Give it up, Sherlock," I drawled lazily.

She narrowed her eyes. "I know I'm right."

I did not respond to that.

"But Matt," I added afterwards, brows furrowed, "that means you're the least safe here."

Matt looked at me straight in the eye. "Listen, Mello," he began, "I know you're worried about me, and I appreciate that. From the beginning, you've countlessly reminded me about how dangerous and unsafe the whole thing is. _I know_ the risk. And I said yes anyway. Why? Because 'danger' is my middle name."

I frowned at him. "You were being serious when you said you wanna play chase with the cops."

He grinned sheepishly, "Busted. But I only mean that if it doesn't involve anyone else. So, as long as we're on the same boat, I'll try to stay away from any trouble. You hear me, Mels?"

I sighed heavily. The last thing I ever wanted is that something happened to Matt. I _wouldn't want_ anything to happen to Matt. I knew I couldn't change anything that had happened to this very second, but I knew I _could_ change anything that had yet to happen; for his own safety and my own, "I hear you. Just… watch yourself, ok?"

"Roger that," he smiled, "Oh and by the way, speaking about names, I've been wondering: what did you say your name was at the hospital? They must have asked for a name, right? And if you ask me, 'Matt' is still a common one, but 'Mello'..."

"'Michael Keith'," Valerie spoke flatly before I could open my mouth. Matt sported a blank look momentarily.

And then he laughed. Out loud. Hysterically.

He ended up clutching the back of his head, again, now with swears directed to me under his breath.

" _Jesus_ , Mello! And here I thought being injured would've made you a tad less brutal…"

I grinned triumphantly, ignoring Valerie's disapproving look, "So be a good kid then. Who knows, maybe Santa will be kind enough to grant your wish on Christmas."

He rolled his eyes. "Ok, let's get back to the topic. For me, I think there's no harm on letting Val call her parents."

"Do you _really_ think so?"

"Did she tell either the doctor or hospital staff about our current situation?"

"... No."

"I couldn't help but telling the doctor about his dependence on painkillers, though..." Valerie admitted. "I'm sorry for that; the doctor's already suspected something, and you know I couldn't lie to a professional."

"What did you tell the doctor?" Matt asked her.

"I told her it's Vicodin, due to its similar early signs of use with heroin, but I swear, I said nothing of the heroin or illegal drugs."

"So, basically she kept her promise not to say anything," Matt said approvingly, "and letting her parents know about her condition wouldn't harm anybody. Just let the poor girl contact her family, Mello."

* * *

 **A/N:** Dear readers, I have an announcement: **Soon, a** **new character from the original Death Note series will make an appearance in this fic** **.** I'll give you hints:

1\. Mello talked to this person in the original series,

2\. No, I regret to say that it's not the pajama-clad boy.

And I'd like to thank my reviewers so far: sallycoombs, Imaradishatheart, Chiruka, anon, kfranke, PxdxlF, Carley-Carley-Carley, LiLy Resh, AngelGefallen, HazakuKaira, TTY7, and Alkirian for their helpful and wonderful feedbacks! Thanks also to those who have added this fic to your favorites/story alerts!

So... what do you think is going to happen after this, hmm?

* * *

 ** _Coming up next…_**

 _Dear Lord, either at this very moment I'm in the company of two crazy freaks or two mad geniuses._


	16. Chapter 15

**A/N:** Lots of dialogues in French in this chapter. Special thanks to PxdxlF for helping translating the dialogues, and as always, to my awesome beta Alkirian!

* * *

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Death Note or any of the characters except for the OCs.

* * *

 **CHAPTER 15**

 **Valerie**

I couldn't describe how relieved I was that Matt allowed me to contact my family, but as far as I knew, Mello's still the one in charge here. The blond man had his eyes on Matt for a while, staring at him silently while sitting perfectly still, before shifting those blue orbs to me, who was waiting in anticipation from the front seat.

There was a tiny jolt inside me the second our eyes met.

I never really paid attention to Mello's eyes before, other than the malicious looks they usually gave. And there they were, just a few inches away from my own eyes, sending me the same grim look for seconds that almost felt like an eternity. A part of them were hidden beneath the messy, golden locks of his bangs, but I could see his irises as clear as day.

Mello had these clear, bright, aquamarine blue eyes with dark-blue rims around the irises. Something about them gave the sharp-eyed impression as ever… they looked like they had always been on guard whenever he was awake. I couldn't have known that for sure of course; I wasn't an expert in profiling or reading facial expressions. It was only a feeling that I got from actually taking my time to observe those eyes of his from a close range.

Which, as his eyes continued to linger on me for a few seconds longer, started to give me a lump in the back of my throat. I gulped nervously. My eyes were getting dry from struggling hard not to blink.

I heaved a relieved sigh secretly when Mello decided to look away, now gazing far out the window, seemingly deep in thought. Neither Matt nor I dared to say a word. There was only a thick, suffocating silence.

I nearly flinched when Mello shifted on his seat and look back at me, as I realized I had been holding my breath throughout the waiting.

"Fine," he said curtly, "Five minutes. No more."

* * *

 **Mello**

It was obvious that Valerie had to struggle to sit still and not jump in excitement the moment I gave her my permission. _She's that desperate, isn't she…_

I had taken my time to reconsider Matt's words, and I had decided that he was right. Or to be exact, I _hoped_ he was right; especially the no harm part.

"That's enough time, really," Valerie said eagerly. But then she paused, seemingly thinking of something. "But... how should I make the call? Payphone?"

I shook my head. "No. Someone in the Mafia might still wander around."

"Here, use this," Matt tossed her his cell phone, "Rod couldn't have tracked down my cell phone. And who knows what kind of precautions he took when he traced Jack's call to Mello's cell phone location."

"That'll work," I pronounced, "Make the call here, inside the car. And put it on speakerphone."

She stared at Matt's cell phone hesitatingly. "But... it'll be an international call."

"Nah, don't worry about th—"

"Well, you can pay him the bill later," I cut in before Matt could finish and ignored his inquisitive look. Noticing the flash of contempt over Valerie's features, I continued defensively, "Hey, I already paid a shitload for the hospital bills."

The corners of her lips twitched scornfully. "Ok, I'll pay…" she said rather reluctantly.

"Good."

"But you said to put it on speakerphone... You know I wouldn't be talking in English, right?"

I lifted an eyebrow. "I told you earlier; I know a word or two in French. That shouldn't be a problem."

"Oh, you're French?" Matt looked over at Valerie and she nodded. He cocked his head, his eyes scanning. "Wow. And I thought French chicks are notable for their classy fashion and elegance."

It was amusing to watch the girl's shoulders slump at Matt's comment, which was an absolute match with my own thoughts. "Yeah, your friend here has pretty much expressed the same thing," she cast me a disdainful look, "Only not so subtly."

I snorted quietly. "Sorry not sorry."

"Well, in that case, Mello's being modest when he said he only knows a word or two…" Matt said thoughtfully, "He basically speaks 8 languages; including French, not counting English."

* * *

 **Valerie**

I gawked at the leather-clad blond who gave no visible reaction.

Wow. Including English, that would make 9 languages. _So he's not lying about being well-educated?_

"Is that for real?" I asked, genuinely amazed.

Matt snickered. "Hell, yeah. English, French, German, Spanish, Russian, Slovak, Chinese, Korean, Japanese... Oh wait, I forgot—he knows ASL as well—"

" _Sign language?_ "

"—and he mastered all of them at, uh... seven? Eight? Mels?"

"Seven," Mello said, looking bored and uninterested, "I see no reason why we're talking about this right now."

 _He mastered all of them at SEVEN?_ _That would be TEN languages!_ I didn't know if my eyes could expand any wider than they were right now.

I turned to Mello and blurted out, " _Pourquoi est-ce que tu ne me l'as pas dit plus tôt?_ "(1)

"Because," Mello spoke, in English, "You're in the US now. _My turf._ So speak in English."

"Then, English is your first language? You're American?"

"I'm not replying to that."

I wiped my palm across my face tiredly. "Ok, ok... Sorry for asking too many questions. Can I make the call now?"

"Whoa. You _are_ being modest," came Matt's cheeky remark followed by an exaggerated gasp, as he glanced over at Mello. "Who are you and what did you do to my friend with the inferiority complex?"

"Inf— _the fuck?_ " Mello shot the redhead a glare. But then, his annoyed features gradually dissolved into that of a cryptic look, as he said mockingly, "Tch. At least I wasn't the one who was being _overly modest_ after illegally gaining access to NASA's computers."

"Oh, come onnn..." the goggled redhead whined, throwing his hands in the air, "You still mad over my little mischief when we were, like, 8-year-old brats?"

Now I—still jaw-dropped—landed my eyes at the goggled redhead. _He hacked into NASA when he was EIGHT?_

Mello clicked his tongue sharply. "In case you don't remember, you told Roger that _I_ helped you decrypt the codes," he growled, "and it was _no_ little mischief."

"Jeez man, that was ages ago! But, well, you did explain about basic cryptography to me —"

 _HOW THE HELL did 8-year-old kids possess knowledge about cryptography?_

"Because you told me you were working on a computer science project, _not_ hacking into a federal network!"

"—plus you were not a first-timer when it came to a call to Roger's office," Matt finished cheerfully, ignoring his blond pal's vexed glare, "and Roger managed to settle things down. So, scolding and detentions aside, everything worked out at the end! And we're still friends! How great is that?"

 _Dear Lord, either at this very moment I'm in the company of two crazy freaks or two mad geniuses._

Mello grimaced at the hacker. "What are you, an 8-year-old?"

"I _was_ an 8-year-old. I'm much smarter now."

"Yeah, right."

"Hmm. Looking at how you're still pissed over that, maybe I shouldn't have asked you about the cryptography... Oh! Maybe I should've asked—"

" _Don't,_ " Mello cut Matt off, his voice low, his tone dangerously cold; cold enough to actually stop Matt from talking, "ever mention that big-headed twit's name in front of me," he hissed menacingly, " _Ever_."

An awkward, pregnant silence followed after Mello's words. Matt never gave a reply. I couldn't understand what the hell just happened, or whose name Mello meant, but I admit I started getting chills here.

"Guys," I hesitatingly spoke before I lose my mind, my eyes darted back and forth cautiously between the two men, "I'm still here."

Both of them shot me incredulous looks before each backed away; Mello leaned back on the backseat with a loud scoff while Matt fixed his goggles awkwardly. "Sorry, Val," the redhead muttered, "You were saying?"

I sighed tiredly. "I'm gonna make the call now. Is that alright?"

Mello gave a nonchalant shrug. "Suit yourself."

I looked down to the cell phone and started dialing the necessary numbers. As soon as the dial tone rang, I put it on speakerphone. Mello and Matt's eyes were monitoring every gesture I made without even batting an eye.

The wait was painfully unbearable. Each dial tone rang hollow in my ear. For a moment there I thought nobody's home and that only made me a nervous wreck.

At this very second, I couldn't care less about my original intention to merely inform my parents that I was alright. All I wanted, after having one hell of a day, was only to hear Mom's or Dad's voice, as I knew only by hearing their voices would sooth me better than anything. Unconsciously I began tapping my feet impatiently.

And nearly jumped when the line finally connected.

" _Allo?_ " said a woman's voice from the end of the line. I felt my heart fall down to my stomach the moment I heard her voice. A wave of emotion rushed fast all along my body. _God, she sounds terribly distressed. Has the news reached France?_

I took a deep, deep breath, and opened my mouth to speak,

" _Maman?_ "

* * *

 **Mello**

Fuck, that was close. _Really close._

I stole a sideway glance at Valerie's profile. In less than 24 hours, she had already discovered some crucial points of my background more than any strangers I ever met. I didn't need her to know more than that.

I didn't need her to know about _him._

The big-headed twit. My sole archenemy. My sole rival since me and Matt's younger days...

 _Up until now._

Biting back a strangled groan, I disgruntledly put the unpleasant memory aside and paid attention to every word from Valerie's phone conversation with her mother. From what I heard, apparently the news had reached France. Their conversation went in a fast pace as Mrs. Rousseau threw bombarding questions at her daughter.

" _Valerie? Où étais tu?!_ " Mrs. Rousseau's voice screeched out of the speakerphone.

" _Je suis désolée maman,_ " Valerie quickly replied, trying to keep her tone even and calm, " _J'étais sortie toute la journée—_ "

" _J'ai essayé de t'appeler! Ton père aussi a essayé! Tu ne répondais jamais!_ "

" _J'avais oublié de prendre mon portable, je suis désolée—_ "

" _Mon dieu... J'étais tellement inquiète pour toi! Est-ce que tu vas bien? Tu as vu les infos?_ "

" _Oui, je suis au courant pour l'attaque de la mafia dans l'immeuble... Je vais bien maman, ne t'inquiète pas..._ "

Mrs. Rousseau was undoubtedly in great panic knowing about the Mafia ambush, and Valerie had a hard time explaining that she couldn't return any of her parents' calls because she had been out all day and left her cell phone in her apartment.

It took Valerie a while to ensure her mother that she was alright, that she was nowhere near the apartment when the ambush took time, while occasionally throwing me an apprehensive look every time she let a lie slipped out.

Of course, I did nothing, except put on my poker face and monitor their conversation silently _. If only Mrs. Rousseau found out about what exactly happened to her daughter today..._

Everything looked fine for the rest of it, until Mrs. Rousseau asked a question,

" _Donc, puisque tu ne peux pas retourner dans ton appartement, où est-ce que tu vas dormir ce soir?_ "

* * *

 **Valerie**

 _Since you can't just go back to your apartment, where are you going to sleep tonight?_

I didn't answer right away. Truth to be told, I hadn't thought of the matter. My mind had been too busy dwelling among other things throughout the chaotic day that the idea hadn't crossed at all. _Yeah, where am I gonna sleep tonight?_

A thought emerged inside my head and I shuddered. I _certainly_ hoped I wasn't gonna spend the night in the car along with two strangers here—or to be exact—two grown _men_ with their handguns!

I cast a glance at the blond ex-Mafioso, waiting expectantly for any hints, but Mello didn't give me any.

That really ticked me off.

Words couldn't describe how I resented the shit I was currently in. What, did he actually authorize me to slip another lie here? He should've known by now I was terrible at making up stories! Did he really expect me to throw more lies at my own panicking mother? Did he enjoy putting me in a bind here?!

 _Ok, stay calm_ , I told myself, attempting to suppress the resurfacing rage, _let's think of a logical answer…_

* * *

 **Mello**

I noted how Valerie looked confounded, but I chose not to say anything. She had managed to cover her real situation to this far and I was curious of how she'd reply to the question. Well, if her mother wanted to know where she would be staying for tonight, since she couldn't just go back to the apartment, I thought she should be smart enough to make up a reasonable response.

When she realized I wasn't going to be any help, she shot me a short-lived, yet blatantly evident fierce glare, before averting her eyes away and looking incredibly pissed.

 _Whoa. She must really despise me at this very second._

It was seconds later did Valerie reply to her mother. She took a deep breath. " _Je pense que je vais dormir chez une amie..._ " she said vaguely.

Ok. A friend's place did sound like a reasonable answer.

But unfortunately, Mrs. Rousseau wanted more details.

" _Bien sûr_ , _mais chez qui? Où? Qu'en est-il des mesures de sécurité? Je veux être sûre que tu seras en sécurité là-bas ma chérie..._ "

The brunette turned to me with bewildered eyes.

* * *

 **Valerie**

 _I knew it._ I knew Mom would ask for details.

Mom had always been rather a protective parent since I could remember. Probably due to the fact that I, an only child, an only daughter, was currently residing in another continent, miles and miles away from home.

For a moment there I considered giving away a randomly selected name and address from my friend list, but I was better than that to understand that it was a bad idea. Small lies would only escalate into bigger lies in the future.

And if somehow, Mom found out that I had been lying to her, when I—though involuntarily—had made her worried sick in the very same day, she _would not_ like it one bit. Trust me.

So once again I looked over to Mello, this time deliberately showed him that I had run out of ideas…

* * *

 **Mello**

 _Jeez, why can't you just blurt out some random, made-up name and address?_ I initially thought in chagrin.

But then again, I supposed she actually couldn't, probably for at least one from three good reasons:

One, she was a bad liar. Heh. That was painfully obvious.

Two, she was afraid on lying to her mother, who didn't sound like going to put this into rest any soon, until she knew for sure whose place and where her daughter would be staying at for tonight, as well whether or not the place had good security measures.

And even if Valerie gave her mother a random name and address, judging from how distressed Mrs. Rousseau sounded like on the phone, there was a possibility that the woman would at least double-check the location address to ensure her daughter's safety. And if Mrs. Rousseau found out that her daughter had lied to her…

Hmph. If I was right, then quite a protective parent Valerie got there. Poor girl.

 _But she's luckier than you_ , a voice inside my head said. _At least she has a mother, AND both parents, alive._

I quickly pushed the intruding thought aside. _The fuck, Mello? Since when do you wallow in self-pity?_

Fine. Moving on.

Three, she thought that I actually had an idea about our destination for tonight, hence the inquiring look.

 _Well, she's wrong._

But apparently Matt also landed his eyes on me with the same inquiring expression over his face. He probably noticed something off since Valerie didn't respond to her mother, and instead, fixing her eyes straight at me. Two pairs of eyes were now burning into my skull in expectation.

I seethed inwardly. Dammit. Why the heck should I be the one in charge for something I never planned for here? _Why the fuck I have to run out of chocolates in times like this?!_

Ok, I knew that we should start thinking about where we should spend the night as well, as hotels were obviously out of options amidst this whole Mafia chatters, and I certainly didn't want to spend the night inside the car where I couldn't even rest my lower leg in this damn air cast. But fuck, seriously! _Do both of you seriously expect me to come up with a name of some random place in New York—_

My trail of thoughts stopped dead on its track.

Right, we were in New York.

If my memory didn't fail me… _then maybe..._

I clenched my teeth against the idea. No, no, no. This was ridiculous. No way.

 _Must I be reminded of that loser for the second time today?_

* * *

 **Valerie**

 _This is bad. This is really, really bad._

At first I thought either Mello or Matt already had any ideas, but it seemed that I was wrong. Matt was giving Mello the same look I had on. I didn't know whether my redheaded neighbor understand French or not, but maybe he already noted something that made me needed to turn to Mello before responding to my Mom's question.

Meanwhile, Mello was still sitting quietly on the backseat, looking as if thinking hard about something; either about this or something completely unrelated.

I bit my lower lip in agitation. _Am I on my own now?_

I knew I had to be really careful here. I knew I couldn't just blurt out something that'd only prone to troublesome matters in the future.

But I also understood that I ran out of time…

" _Valerie? Tu es toujours là?_ "

* * *

 **Mello**

" _Hm, oui, je suis toujours là_ ," Valerie responded to Mrs. Rousseau's call, confirming that she was still on the phone, before her hazel eyes darted back at me. _What should I say?_ She mouthed soundlessly.

 _Oh, for fuck's sake…_

So her mother wanted a valid name and address in New York? Fine, I could give her one. Might as well become our sanctuary for the night. But whether or not this would work out at the end, I had no fucking idea. Only God knew.

I snatched my cell phone open, typed in a few words, and showed Valerie the screen. She read it in silence before her brows drew together in confusion.

She gave me a baffled look, which I simply respond silently by giving her a curt nod. _Just tell your mother what's written here, explanations later._

After that, Valerie brought Matt's cell phone closer to her mouth. Her hazel eyes dwelt on my cell phone screen all the time, as she spoke tentatively,

" _Je vais rester chez une amie en dernière année d'études au 808 Columbus Ave ce soir, son nom est_..."

As Valerie continued speaking to her mother, I pulled my extended hand back and stared down at my cell phone. _This better works_ , I mused in silence. At least I had my Beretta back now, strapped securely on the hem of my pants, in case the following situation might require me to get into action.

The tiny pixelated letters on the screen that I had typed in earlier were displaying:

 _Staying over at an upperclassman's place, 808 Columbus Ave, female, name: Hal._

* * *

 _1\. Why didn't you tell me earlier?_

* * *

 **A/N:** Yep, the new character is Hal Lidner. Congratulations to those who guessed it right! xD

Just FYI, I'm starting my internship soon so I'll be busy the next few months, hence quick updates might rather be unlikely. I'll try to find time to update tho.

And now the question is... what is Hal's connection to Mello? Apparently, Matt is wondering about the same thing as well...

* * *

 _ **Coming up next...**_

" _You seem to know a lot about this Hal lady," Matt drawled, his Cheshire cat-like grin grew wider, "So... care to share your secret love life with us, Mels?"_


	17. Chapter 16

_**A/N:** I know, I'm extremely sorry guys for not updating for almost two years! Things have got so busy IRL, and then there's writer's block, and also I'm working full time job right now. I understand how frustrating it is to wait for sooooo long for a new update of a story you've been following, so I apologize to you guys. For you who have been waiting patiently and still interested in reading the story, thank you very much. And thank you very much guys for leaving wonderful messages and reviews, I really appreciate it! ^^_

 _As usual, reviews and constructive criticism are greatly appreciated._

* * *

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note or any other characters except for the OCs.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 16**

 **New York, November 19, 2011, 07:26PM**

 **Mello**

"Well, that went well," Matt cheerfully said while he maneuvered the wheel through the streets of New York.

"Barely," a timid voice, yet with a clear tone of annoyance came from the passenger seat (Valerie ended up sitting on the passenger seat while I ended up sitting on the front seat to give Matt better direction to our destination). I looked back just so slightly and saw Valerie, leaning to the back of the seat, arms folded, gazing towards the outside of the windows.

I bit a chunk of the chocolate bar in my hand. Finally I could buy chocolate bars after we drove off from the goddamn hospital—or else I might had gone crazy. "Still, it went well at the end," I said in a matter-of-fact tone, "no need to look so pissed off."

"Well, excuse me for looking so pissed off," Valerie retorted, "I was forced to make up some false stories to my mom!"

I rolled my eyes. "Get used to it already, missy. You said yourself you'll cooperate and not making anyone else involved in our situation, didn't you?"

"If you're truly a genius, you could've helped me sooner! You could've taken care of such things better than me!" she snapped back, before maneuvering her gaze back at outside.

 _Ok, I see. Apparently she's still pissed because I didn't help her out sooner in making up a cover story to her mom._

"Yeah, she's right about the last part though," Matt chirped in with a snicker. "I absolutely loved that cover story you made up for the doctor—and how you made it as if Val and you have a thing? Ha! Genius!"

"Shut up, Matt," Valerie and I said at the same time. Matt only shrugged it off with an annoying grin and continued to drive. I got the feeling that he actually really enjoyed this situation. Stupid weirdo.

I turned to Valerie. "Ok, listen. I already saved your ass twice today, so you should at least be grateful," I said, ticked off with the fact that she didn't even want to look at me in the eye. _Who does she think I'm talking to—the air?_ "And look at me while I am speaking to you, dammit!"

Right after I said that, Valerie turned her head so sudden that I almost (note, _almost)_ twitch in surprise. Her hazel eyes were now looking directly into my eyes, her brows dug deeper, her entire expression literally screamed 'I'm-looking-at-you-right-now-so-what-do-you-want'.

But other than the unmasked anger on her face, I admitted she looked quite disheveled as if she had been running chores non stop for hours with no break. Well, that much was true after all. It's almost 7:30 in the evening and we were still out in the middle of the boulevard in the cold weather of November, and also we hadn't got the chance to clean up or properly rest.

Well, I guessed I couldn't blame her for looking so pissed off...

"As you wish then," the brunette sneered, then proceeded speaking in an over-exaggerated way, "Thank you for everything you've done for me, Mr. Michael Keith. I'm deeply sorry for your ankle."

My eyes almost bulged out. Ok, I took back what I just said. _What's with the defiant attitude?_

Oh great, she's getting cocky right now. A few casual chit-chats back at the hospital and now she thought she could speak that way to my face? Nope. Nuh-uh. I wasn't going to let her the satisfaction of having the last words. No fucking way.

"You're welcome, Miss Valerie Rousseau. Thank you for caring for my well being as well, you're such a sweet girl," I shot back with the same over-exaggerating mocking tone, drawling out the last two words in particular.

Oh boy, I almost laughed out loud on her dumbfounded expression if it had not been for my impressive self control. I could see her cheeks gradually turned pink in embarrassment. Even Matt's failing on his attempt to suppress his laughter.

"Who are you calling _sweet girl_?" Valerie's eyes narrowed even further, but her cheeks still remained the same shade of pink.

"Why, now you're pissed because I called you a sweet girl?" I asked back, playing innocent. "Missy, you are difficult to please, aren't you?"

" _Can't you just shut u—_ "

And then suddenly, a growl sound erupted inside the car. Followed by a pregnant silence.

Then Valerie, eyes widen, looked down to her stomach.

* * *

 **Valerie**

I was pretty certain I turned completely red now.

"Oh. Is someone hungry?" Mello teased again, not even bothering to hold out a smirk that was currently growing wider on his lips.

 _This is SO embarrassing. Dear Lord, why must my stomach growled at this very moment?_

"Whoa, Val," came Matt's voice from the driver seat, sounding genuinely concerned, "if you're hungry you don't need to keep it from us. Shall we go find some food then?"

I didn't bother to answer both of them and glanced away, keeping my mouth shut, struggling to keep my cool. Of course I was hungry—the only thing I ate today was bread and jam for my breakfast and I even skipped lunch!

Even though to be honest, I wasn't feeling hungry at all a few hours ago, not with the whole shit I was currently in. But, now, now that the tension had died down a little, I wasn't only hungry—I was _starving_.

Mello scoffed. "I'll take that as a yes," he grunted, yet thankfully didn't say anything to mock me further. "What do you want to eat?"

I turned back at the blonde man. Did I hear that right? "Huh?"

"I said, what do you want to eat?" he repeated, still holding his blue eyes upon me.

"Come to think of it, I'm also quite hungry," Matt quipped in. "So what will it be? Pizza? Chinese? Thai? McDonalds? And don't worry, Mello will pay for it."

"Wha—?!" Mello shot a glare to Matt, but then sighed exasperatedly and looked back at me. "Fine. Ok, whatever, it's on me. So what do you want?"

"Uh…" I thought about it for a moment. They offered me to eat. _These criminals_ offered me to eat. Huh, they were surely different than the typical criminals I usually read at news or mystery fictions. "I'll have McDonalds if that's ok."

"Junk food! Nice one!" Matt exclaimed cheerfully. "I can already smell the fried chicken and fries. Onto McDonalds drive-thru then! Thanks for paying, Mels!"

Mello rolled his eyes at Matt's remark and even I managed to chuckle. I felt grateful that Matt's here; he could always act as a balancer between me and Mello and also lighten up the moment, which made me feel less tense.

Then at the corner of my eyes I saw Mello reached inside his jacket pocket and, unexpectedly, stretched out his hand to me, a new chocolate bar in hand. "So that you don't die of starvation," he said plainly. "It may take a while before we arrive at the drive-thru."

I looked at the chocolate bar in his hand and took it, disbelieved that Mello had actually offered me one of his precious chocolate bars.

 _Hmm. Perhaps he wasn't a total monster after all._

That brought up a smile on my lips.

"Thanks."

* * *

 **Mello**

We stopped at McDonalds to order at the drive-thru. I was already pissed at Matt for making me pay for lots of food (how many person did he think sitting inside this car? 10?) but at the end there was no leftover. Apparently each of us was really starving, and that included Valerie. Who would've thought such a petite belly could take in 3 pieces of fried chickens and 2 large portions of french fries?

Right now Matt was driving us to the last place we would stop tonight. I could only hope this plan wouldn't backfired at me. _It's been years since I last saw Hal..._

"I'm curious, Mello," I heard Matt spoke, disrupting my trail of thoughts, "808 Columbus Ave. That's like a luxury apartment building, right? I hear the cheapest rent is around $3000 up to $5000 per month."

"Yeah," I said while looking outside of the window, taking in the view of New York City at night.

"So this Hal… I imagine she's a rich, successful lady for being able to afford such place. Who is she and how did you know this person?"

From the rear-view mirror, I saw Valerie glanced away from the window and stared at me, also paying full attention.

I sighed, not wanting to expose too much of my past in front of the girl. "Let's say that me and Hal go way back. I first met her a few years ago when I was still in the mafia. And you're right, I suppose you can say that she's a successful woman, a high ranking officer for the government," I explained without telling too much.

"Have you told her that we're spending the night at her place?"

"Not yet."

"Well then, how do you know she wouldn't flat out drive us out?"

"She wouldn't. That much I know."

"And if she isn't home?"

"Then we could just broke in. I know which one her apartment is. Then if she comes home I can simply talk to her and explain everything."

"Hmm. You seem to know a lot about this Hal lady," Matt drawled, his chesire-cat grin grew wider, "So… care to share your secret love life with us, Mels?"

I threw my best friend a glare as a response, which as usual didn't affect him at all.

"Is she your ex-girlfriend?" Valerie asked after staying quiet for so long.

I eyed her. "Why, missy? You jealous?"

She simply rolled her eyes. "No. I mean this is another stranger for me and now I have to spend the night in her place," she said. "It'll make things awkward if she's your ex, yet she sees you bring in another girl to spend the night at her place."

"I would've been happier if you said you're jealous," I responded nonchalantly, satisfied at how Valerie shot me a fierce glare. How I gradually came to enjoy teasing this girl. "Just kidding. No, she's not an ex or anything like that, and no, Matt," I turned to the goggled redhead, "I have no secret love life whatsoever. Satisfied?"

"Aw… too bad, man," Matt sighed. "I was looking forward to make fun of your love life. Or may I say, your _nonexistent_ love life."

I clicked my tongue. "It's not that I need a love life of my own. And speak for yourself, you insomniac weirdo."

"My relationship with my dearest laptops and game consoles are the only romantic relationship I will ever need in my life."

"Nerd." I turned to the brunette girl. "And you, missy? Got a better love life than any of us?"

Valerie let out a huff. "Stop calling me 'missy'. And why do you care about my love life anyway?"

"Because now you know how ours are and it's only fair if I know how yours is," I shrugged, a playful smirk grew wider on my face looking at how uncomfortable she became with my last question. Valerie merely deadpanned at me.

"You'll just keep nagging at me if I don't answer, won't you."

"Look at that. You've come to know me so well."

She clicked her tongue impatiently. "Fine, I don't have one. Now shut up."

I chuckled at her response. "With that attitude no wonder you got none. God, I feel sorry for the guy you will end up being together with."

"SHUT. UP."

* * *

 **808 Columbus Ave, November 19, 2011, 09:44PM**

A woman with wet platinum hair just came out of the shower when she heard the bell rang from her apartment front door. Her perfectly shaped eyebrows furrowed slightly. _Who's visiting at this hour?_ She didn't remember making appointments with anyone, especially at this hour where she usually had prepared to go to bed.

The woman wrapped out her bathrobe around her body, and after making sure that she was decent, she walked up to the front door. She peeked through the peephole, yet no one was outside.

 _It must've been a prank_ , she thought to herself. It wasn't uncommon for neighbor's kids to sometimes made a prank like that, even though she didn't like it.

She was just thinking to go back inside when she heard the bell rang again and mentally growled. _Oh God, I really need to teach these kids a lesson,_ she thought and opened the door, preparing to berate the naughty brats.

Although there weren't any naughty brats outside her apartment.

Instead, the sight that greeted her was the last thing she could ever imagined.

In front of her was a gun, pointed directly to herself, by a tall figure clothed entirely in black leather from black to toe whose face covered by the hoodie of his red leather jacket. Behind this stranger there were two other people; a redhead man wearing goggles and a brunette girl who looked worn out.

Amidst her surprise she could still take a look on that gun model, courtesy of her sharp instincts. _Beretta 92FS_ , she noted, before her eyes traveled to the rosary this person was wearing around his neck.

And that was when she came into recognition.

"Mello," the woman said coolly.

The mysterious stranger lifted up his face just a little bit. The lights from inside the apartment now illuminating his face, revealing the burns covering the left side. The man's piercing blue eyes, which were partly hidden beneath golden strands of his bangs, never left hers.

"Long time no see, Hal Lidner."


End file.
